


An Innocent's Reparation

by BathoryAngel



Series: An Innocent's Ruin And Renewal [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Child Abuse, Consensual Violence, Dark Past, Depression, Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Gangbang, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, High School Student Castiel, High School Student Dean, High School Student Sam, Human Trafficking, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Sexual Slavery, Parent/Child Incest, Past Violence, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence, Slavery, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Prostitution, Verbal Abuse, Violence, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 36
Words: 79,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3313295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BathoryAngel/pseuds/BathoryAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is a quiet freshman who is heavily bullied and quickly earns the reputation for school man-slut. Dean Winchester is the mysterious new student in the small town of Lawerence, Kansas with a dark past. The two form an instant bond, but after seeing the scars on Castiel's wrists, will Dean be able to pull his new friend from the darkness of an unhappy past and a home of questionable safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very dark fic. Lots of abuse, rape, and self-harm. If any of these bother you please do not read. I was not nice at all to Castiel, there is a lot of graphic rape, abuse, and thoughts of self-harm/suicide. You have been warned!!!!  
> Note: None of these characters belong to me, I just like to have fun with them.

Castiel Novak stopped outside the front doors of Lawrence High School. It was just after six, most of the other students wouldn’t arrive for another hour. He breathed in a deep breath of the warm late summer air before pushing through the doors and making a beeline for the library, tugging his uncomfortably warm yet safe tattered old trench coat tighter around him. His father always believed in keeping up appearances, hence his button-down white collared shirt and slacks. He knew most of the others would wear tattered jeans and a T-shirt, but this outfit seemed to please his father. And Castiel lived for pleasing his father. His outfit also helped hide his scars and bruises, something he studiously ignored as he absentmindedly rubbed the rope burn adorning his wrists.  
The library was quiet, peaceful just like he liked it. The layout was unfamiliar to him, being a freshman this was his first year at the school. He spent the past week studying the map given to them at orientation, memorizing the fastest routes to his classes, locker, bathrooms, and of course the library. He quickly found a secluded corner to sink into as he pulled out his Bible and a journal. His father wanted him to copy the entire book, as he had him do every year. Never one to disobey, Castiel wanted to start as quickly as possible. Popping in his headphones and listening to the first few chords of Bach, he began to write.  
The bell rang an hour later, signaling the beginning of the first day of school. Shoving his work back into his bag, Castiel rose and made his way quickly towards Biology. He was the first in the class, and immediately picked a seat in the back corner. Other students began filing in, non-descript in Castiel’s opinion. It wasn’t until right before the bell rang that anyone grabbed his attention. Castiel couldn’t help but stare. The near-late arrival was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Sandy brown-blonde hair, tan skin, cocky smile, tight ACDC shirt and ripped jeans with a strange pendant around his neck and brown leather jacket casually thrown over his shoulder. But it was the eyes that really captured his attention. They were like sunlight filtered through a forest of leaves, so green and so kind. The man behind those green eyes frowned, surveying the room to find all the seats filled. All except for one in the far back.  
Castiel only realized he was staring when the beautiful man ended up sliding into the seat next to him. Blushing, Castiel quickly looked down and rubbed some more at the rope burns just concealed by his trench coat.  
“Hey.” The boy smiled at him.  
“Hello.” Castiel replied, voice dropping low as he continued to stare down.  
“My name is Dean. Dean Winchester. I’m kinda new to town so I don’t really know anyone here yet.” He said, cheerfully trying to start up a conversation.  
“Castiel Novak.” New, huh? That explained why Castiel didn’t know him. Granted, he had never bothered to learn the names of anyone, but he definitely would have known Dean had he seen him before. “Look.” Castiel sighed. “You’re new so you don’t know, but you really shouldn’t talk to me. You’re fairly attractive so you could definitely end up quite popular here. Associating with me would only serve to drag your status here at school down.”  
“Wha-“ Dean coughed, blushing himself at the compliment. “Dude. First off, that’s just weird. Secondly, I think I can choose for myself who to talk to.” Castiel just shrugged, thankful that the teacher chose that moment to begin the lesson. Class passed quickly and awkwardly, Castiel doing his best to ignore the tension at their table as he took notes. The second the bell rang he was on his feet and flying out of the class. The next few periods passed without incident. It wasn’t until right before lunch that Castiel had his next interaction with another student. He had gone to the bathroom, and was just washing his hands when a group of sophomores walked in.  
The first boy was short with thin dark hair and the beginnings of a beard. He was pale with shifty eyes. The second was dark skinned, hair cut nearly to the scalp, and broad shouldered for his age. The last boy was also dark skinned, but taller and thinner than the other with hair a little bit longer. The first boy groaned upon seeing Castiel, who instantly froze.  
“Damn freshman. Fucking hate them, always getting under our feet.” The first boy said, puffing his chest out to look older and stronger than he really was.  
“Think you’re all grown up now that you’re in high school, don’t you fish?” the tall one smirked.  
“More like fag.” The other laughed.  
“You got a point there, Uriel.” The first boy quipped. “Bet this little queer is just dying to suck off our cocks, aren’t you.” All three of them sniggered, clustered around Castiel and obscenely grabbing their junk.  
 _Suck my cock, Castiel. That’s an order. It’s what your mother would have done, that is, if you hadn’t taken her from me._  
Numbly, Castiel dropped to his knees before the first boy and started undoing his belt. All three of them froze, shocked.  
“Fucking hell, this little faggot actually wants it, don’t you whore?” the first boy gasped as Castiel pulled the boys cock out and started sucking him to fullness.  
“Shit.” The tall one said, turning around to lock the bathroom door. Castiel did everything the boys asked of him. The first boy wasn’t too bad, even threaded his fingers over Castiel’s scalp soothingly throughout. Castiel barely had time to swallow before the tall one had dragged him by the hair to his own cock. The next two were more violent, pulling on him and fucking his face. Castiel focused on breathing through his nose and shielding his teeth and really nothing else.  
The first boy, Crowley the others called him, watched in amusement while tucking himself back in. The boy really was enthusiastic, he thought. The only thing that gave him a pause was when he shot a quick glance down to Castiel’s pants to see just how much the fag really was enjoying it. Crowley frowned. The boy was as soft as a baby inside those slacks of his. Red flags were raging inside his head, but Crowley shoved them down. After all, the boy was good at what he was doing.  
“Thanks, fag.” Raphael, the tall one smirked before Castiel stood and fled the bathroom, still wiping cum off his lips. Crowley frowned after him for a moment before returning his attention to the reason they came here in the first place. Namely, the urinals.  
Castiel practically ran to the library, feeling tears starting to form. Angrily, he wiped his eyes. His father would be furious if he found out. He liked to save Castiel for himself and those he deemed Castiel was “worthy” of. But Castiel was used to obeying, and their gestures had made it obvious what they wanted of him. Hiding away in what he now referred to as ‘his’ corner, he pulled out a sandwich and scarfed it down. It was the first food he had had in nearly three days. Afterwards, he went back to work on copying the Bible, feeling the tension wind out of his body. When the bell rang, he hurried to his next class, English. Already, he felt the stares and whispers as word about what he did in the bathroom spread rapidly.  
Again, Castiel made his way to the back of the class, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. It wasn’t until a chair scraped back next to him that he looked up.  
“We really have to stop meeting like this.” Dean Winchester smirked as he sat next to him.  
“Hello Dean.” Castiel blushed. Dean smiled, eyes lighting up. “Hey man, you left so fast from first period I didn’t get a chance to ask. Your name is such a mouthful, is it cool if I just call you Cas?”  
Castiel frowned. “You still want to talk to me? In case you missed it, I’m not exactly popular.”  
“Doesn’t matter. Still, is it okay to call you Cas?”  
“Of course Dean.” Cas felt his voice crack.  
“Hey fag.” The boy in front of them turned and sniggered. “Heard you give amazing head. Wanna suck me off in the bathroom too after class?”  
“Shut the fuck up, you perverted bitch.” Dean snarled. The boy looked startled, and quickly faced back to the front.  
“Jackass.” Dean glowered before turning a confused face on Castiel. “What was that about Cas?”  
“Nothing.” He answered too quickly. Dean wasn’t convinced, but let it drop.  
“Didn’t see you at lunch.”  
“I ate in the library.”  
“Oh.” Dean frowned. “Look, if you want to, you can eat with me tomorrow.I sit with Sam, my brother, Jo, my adopted sister, and her boyfriend Benny. Charlie too, my other adopted sister, once she starts going to school. She’s at home sick right now.” Dean rambled on. “I mean, there’s plenty of room for you if, you know, you wanted to eat with us.”  
“Thank you Dean. I’ll consider it.” Cas almost smiled before the teacher ran in and started class. “Shit. I mean shoot. Sorry I’m late, had a little mishap with the coffee maker in the teacher’s lounge.” The teacher looked frazzled to say the least. He dropped his papers on the desk before reconsidering and scooping up most of the stack to shuffle around some more. “Anyways, um-“ He coughed before continuing. “My name is Chuck Shurley and I will be teaching you English this year.” Cas smiled. Already, he could tell he would like this class.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still dark, still lots of abuse but not even close to the heart of it yet. I promise many more chapters to come in the near future. I'll be switching back and forth between focusing on Castiel and Dean chapter by chapter. Still not edited and still not complete, so bear with me as this story unfolds. Any errors you find, just let me know and I will fix them first chance I get. Enjoy!

Dean kept glancing at the boy next to him. He couldn’t help it. It was those eyes, so blue and so innocent. The boy, Cas, had pale skin and an almost startling thin frame. His dark hair was in perfect contrast to his complexion, and did everything for those beautiful eyes. Not to mention how sex-tousled his short locks always seemed to be.  
Dean shook his head. New school, new life and all that. No need for old bad habits to resurface. The kid seemed so damn sweet. Dean didn’t want to drag him into the shit that was his life. The class passed by too quickly, and Cas ran out as fast as he had the first period. Shaking his head, Dean did his best to clear images of that blue-eyed angel from his mind. He did an almost convincing job of it, forcing his mind not to wander for the rest of the day. It wasn’t until he was on his way to his car that he ran into Cas again.  
Two boys were on either side of Castiel, who was lying on the ground curled into as small of a ball as he could make while the boys kicked and kicked and kicked. “Faggot!” one of them yelled in time with a particularly brutal blow. Dean flinched just hearing it. Cas didn’t even seem to feel the pain, just taking everything with a tense sort of acceptance.  
“Hey!” Dean yelled, dropping his bag and running forward. There was already a small crowd formed that he had to fight through to reach them.  
“Stay out of this new kid.” The other boy said. “After all, this little cock-whore has it coming. First day and already he’s sucking guys off left and right like the little slut he is, aren’t. You. Queer.” He enunciated each word with a kick.  
“Enough!” Dean shouted, pushing forward to pin the two to the wall easily. They stared up at him with wide eyes. “Either of you touch him again, and I’ll make what you just did to him look like a walk in the fucking park. Understand?” They nodded frantically. “Good.” Dean growled. “Now get the fuck outta here.” They hurried to comply as Dean helped Cas up. “You alright?” Dean asked as gently as he could, picking up both his and Cas’ backpack before herding him to his car.  
“Fine.” Cas breathed, both arms protecting his midsection, shaking only slightly with a trickle of blood running from his nose. The thing that scared Dean the most though was how emotionless the boy seemed. No visible pain. Or anger. Or fear. Just nothing. Dean shivered, aching for how much Cas must be hurting right now. Not just now, but the amount he must have had throughout his life to be used to it.  
“We should get you looked at. Could have bruised ribs or something.”  
“I’m fine Dean.” Some color returned to his cheeks, but it was wrong. All wrong. Cuz Dean could swear that was shame, something Cas definitely shouldn’t be feeling now. “Besides-“ Cas interrupted Dean’s train of thoughts. “My father has a family doctor on call who can come over if I worsen.”  
They had reached the car, and Dean opened the back door to throw both their bags in. Cas looked startled. “I can walk Dean.”  
“Dammit Cas! You just got the shit beat out of you. No way are you walking. Not on my watch.” Dean wrenched open the passenger door and gently eased Cas inside, who thankfully had stopped protesting. That might be because the change in position definitely sent flares of pain shooting through him, if the tension, his sudden focus on breathing, and the complete hurt written on his face were anything to go by. Dean hurried to his side and turned the car on to crank up the AC.  
They sat there for a few minutes before Cas started to ease back in the seat, breathing less harsh but still hitching every so often. Of course that’s when Sam would show up.  
“What the hell man? Not even gonna let your brother ride shotgun home on his first day of high school?” He said jokingly, sliding into the back seat. His face had one of those stupid grins plastered across it. That is, until he saw the state of the current occupier of his usual seat. “What the-Dude are you okay?!?”  
“Sam, Cas. Cas, this is my little brother Sam.” Dean barked, putting the car in reverse and backing out. “Saw some guys beat the shit out of him and wasn’t about to let my friend walk home like that.”  
At first, Cas seemed guilty about taking Sam’s seat, even had a ‘Sorry’ on the tip of his tongue before Dean had cut him off. Now, he just stared in awe at those green eyes focused on the road.  
“Friend?” Cas breathed, like he couldn’t believe it. Dean flushed, muttering, “Yeah. Man, I mean, if you want me to be.” Scratching the back of his neck in an attempt to hide the blush.  
“I would like that very much.” Cas smiled reverently. Dean coughed. “Great. Now, how do I get to your house?”  
The car ride passed in a hushed sort of silence, Castiel muttering directions as they went. Dean could hear the slight wheezing, his friend flinching with every breath. Dean had no doubt that there were at least two or three bruised ribs, if not more. The nose bleed had mostly stopped, but blood still streaked his lips and chin. There was a small bruise forming on his cheek, not quite worthy of an epic black eye, but still pretty bad. Dean reached over and opened the glove compartment, shuffling around through it until he found what he was looking for. “Here.” He said gruffly, handing over a wad of napkins to Castiel.  
“Thank you.” The boy replied quietly, wiping away some of the partially-dried blood.  
“Why weren’t you fighting back, man?” Dean couldn’t help but ask. After all, he got his ass beat quite a few times but always tried to give as good as he got. Cas didn’t answer, just looked at him with that expression that said to stop asking stupid questions. Sam cleared his thought, passing up a bottle of water. Castiel thanked him and wet the napkins to better clean his face before downing half the bottle in one go. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the seat, looking so tired.  
When they finally arrived at the house, Dean wasn’t sure what to do.  
“Hey man, I mean I think someone should watch you. Make sure you don’t pass out or anything before your Dad gets home.”  
“I’ll be fine Dean.” Cas grumbled, grunting as he pushed the door open and all but fell out of the car. Luckily, Sam had already climbed out and was there to steady him. Dean stepped out as well, briskly jogging around the car to support the smaller boy as they made the short walk to the front door, Sam just behind them carrying Cas’s bag. Castiel fished the keys out of his pocket, but dropped them before he could open the door. Dean bent to retrieve the keys and helped Cas inside. The house was cold, and not just temperature wise. There was only one picture on the walls, a large family portrait featuring a much younger Cas and a few others Dean didn’t recognize. There was an older boy and a younger girl, both smiling widely. Castiel’s parents looked happy and welcoming, arms wrapped around their children. Dean didn’t get that vibe from the house though. It seemed empty, like it had been sanitized of anything resembling what a home should be.  
“Thank you Dean. I’ll be fine from here.” Cas shoved away to lean on the wall, weakly reaching out for his bag. He wouldn’t meet either of their eyes. Dean would have offered to help Cas to his room, but he got the distinct feeling Cas didn’t want them there. So he gestured for Sam to hand over the bag and they left with a quiet, “See you tomorrow Cas.”  
The brothers rode home in silence, both lost in thought. Dean had no idea how long Cas had been bullied, but it had to be awhile for the boy to have no fight left in him. The blank expression kept popping up every time Dean closed his eyes. It was like he friend was there, but wasn’t at the same time. He had never seen anyone look like that before. And it scared the shit out of him.  
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Sam broke the quiet.  
“I don’t know Sammy.” Dean replied, noting Sam didn’t even try to protest the use of Dean’s nickname for him. “I just don’t know.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Cas! And we finally get to meet Dean's family!!! Read the tags, and if you feel any of them would bother you, then DO NOT READ!!! This fic gets really, really dark before the end!!!

                Zachariah, Castiel’s father, was not pleased when he arrived home to find the state Cas was in. Nevertheless, he called Michael, who immediately came over. Michael tsked over his injuries as he cleaned and bandaged them. “Making friends already, I see.” Michael sneered, finishing off the last of the dressing. Castiel barely hid the smile, because all he could think of was that, yes, he did have a friend now.

                “You pulled me away from a family dinner, Zachariah.” Michael addressed his father, all business. “I expect compensation.”

                “Of course. I’ll schedule you in for this weekend.” Zachariah didn’t look too happy about it though.

                “I was thinking something more immediate than that.” Michael stood so his crotch was inches in front of Cas’ face where he still sat on the couch. The beginnings of a bulge were obvious from the close proximity. Cas looked up at Michael, then his father, asking silently what they wanted of him.

                “Go ahead. Nothing more than oral, though. Brat does have school tomorrow.” Zachariah casually waved his hand toward Michael in permission before going to grab a beer from the kitchen. Cas sighed. If his father was drinking that meant it would be a long night for him. It was only the first day of school, but that hadn’t stopped the teachers from giving homework. And a drunk father led inevitably to a horny father. Michael cupped Castiel’s face and gently pulled him closer, reminding him of the task at hand. Dutifully, Castiel raised his hands to Michael’s belt and went to work on him.

                The next day Cas winced as he sat down in first period. His father had forgotten about school after he got drunk. Forgot the lube and to prep Castiel too, but that was nothing new. The only good thing was that he could blame the soreness on his ass beating yesterday. After all, Castiel didn’t really have many friends, but he knew that he did not want anyone finding out what he did at night. After all, it revolted Castiel, he could only imagine what the others would think of him.

                Dean sat next to him, friendly smile plastered to his face. It made Cas want to cry. After all, he was dirty. Broken. A murderer. And Dean was nice, too kind to him. Absentmindedly, Cas picked at the scabs on his arm. He had seen someone doing it in middle school, crying in the bathroom with blood running down his arm. At Castiel’s inquisitive head tilt, the boy had sniffed and said, “It helps with the pain.” Before fleeing the bathroom. And he had been right. It did help with the pain.

                “What’s up Cas?” Dean smiled warmly.

                “Hello Dean.” Cas replied flatly, shifting awkwardly to find a position in the unforgiving plastic seats that didn’t send sharp bolts of pain flashing inside him.

                Dean’s smile faltered as he took in the black eye and grimace of pain. But he seemed determined to try and cheer Castiel up. “You look terrible.” Came out instead.

                Cas smiled, small but there. “I gathered that much.” And Dean laughed, really laughed with eyes crinkling and all. “Hey man, you doing anything after school? Cuz I didn’t have any plans or anything and was, uh, wondering if you wanted to hang out or whatever, I mean, if you want and all and-I’ll shut up now.” A slight blush had crept up Dean’s face, possibly from embarrassment, more likely from the lack of breath as he had rushed it all out as quickly as possible.

                “I would have to check with my father first.” Cas hesitated. So here it was. Dean was like all the rest, he just wanted to take Castiel in the privacy of his own home instead of the bathroom like the other boys. Perhaps buttering him up to get more out of him. He didn’t need to though. Castiel always did as he was told.

                “Great.” Dean smiled. “We could just hang out at my house-“

                _I knew it._ Cas thought sadly.

                “-or, you know your house, or wherever. One of the perks of having a car after all.” Dean winked.

                “How do you have a car, Dean?” Cas finally thought to ask, yesterday he had been too distracted. After all, as far as he knew, freshmen didn’t drive.

                “Oh, that.” Dean chuckled. “Long story, basically I should be a junior now, fell back a bit on school is all.” He frowned, not comfortable with the subject.

                The bell rang and class started, Cas diving into his notes with the fervor of a true scholar. Dean smiled again, chuckling as he turned his attention to his notes as well.

                The rest of the day passed quickly. Castiel had changed his bathroom schedule and even the bathroom he used. But it seemed that Uriel and Raphael had been following him in hope of a repeat performance. Crowley was nowhere to be seen, but they had brought friends. The five boys circled Cas, blocking his exit. He left with eyes mercifully dry, heading quickly to the class he was already late for. He didn’t even get a chance to eat.

                Luckily, the teacher was late again. Cas breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Dean wasn’t there either. Time for one quick cut under the desk. After all, no one ever really noticed him. Well, apparently everyone except for Dean. The razor was just being returned to his pocket when Dean slid next to him, breathless. Castiel held a careful mask of nothingness on his face, not trusting his emotions at the moment.

                Cas spoke before Deans concern could make itself known. “I called my father after first period. He will be out of town for business for the night, so it would be fine if I spent the evening with you Dean.” It was only a half lie. He had called his father, and his father had told him of the last minute business trip. But Castiel had conveniently forgotten to mention Dean to him.

                “ Great!” Dean beamed, concern pacified for the moment. Cas kept his left wrist carefully hidden beneath the desk. He knew the trench coat he wore covered the blood slowly dripping down towards his palm, but he had cut a bit deeper than he meant to and didn’t want it soaking through. Mr. Shurley chose that moment to grace the class with his presence, and Cas was once again saved an awkward conversation with Dean. He was starting to regret his choice, but it wasn’t like he could be picky with friends. And even though he wanted to push Dean away with everything inside of him, he wanted to hold onto him even more. Kindness was something he found lacking more than not in his life.

                The rest of the day was a blur, and the next thing Cas knew he was walking towards his smirking friend as he leaned against his car.

                They went to Dean’s house. Well, his Uncle Bobby’s house. Apparently his first wife was good friends with Dean’s mom, practically sisters. She died around the same time that Dean’s mom passed. Cas didn’t push for details on either account. Ellen was Bobby’s wife now, and both of them were Dean and Sam’s adopted parents. Jo was Ellen’s daughter and Charlie was adopted as well. Jo was Dean’s age and actually a junior, whereas Charlie was a year older than Sam but was a freshman with them. Sam was some sort of freaky genius who was a freshman as well, but his strictly AP class-filled schedule kept him in separate classes from Charlie, Castiel, and Dean. Charlie would be in a few of their classes as well, but a well-timed case of mono kept her from starting school for another week.

                All this Cas learned on the ride to their house, a large slightly rundown building on the edge of the suburbs that was also home to Singer Salvage Yard. Dean loved cars and helped out Bobby where he could. The car they were riding in now was a ’67 Chevy Impala and Deans ‘Baby’ as he fondly referred to it, rubbing the dashboard a bit in affirmation. Castiel had to admit he was pretty nervous. It had been years since he had been to someone else’s home.

                Jo arrived just before them, riding with her boyfriend Benny Laffite who had promised the family his famous gumbo for dinner. An often occurrence, if Sam’s snorted “Again?” were anything to go off of.

                “What about you Cas? Got a big family too?” Dean asked, climbing out of the car.

                “It’s just me and my father now. My brother, Gabriel, is off to college and my younger sister Anna is at boarding school. My father’s brother, Lucas, visits every month or so. He lives one town over. Naomi, my mother, died when I was seven.”

                Both brothers froze. “Shit.” Sam breathed eyes wide. “I m-mean, I’m sorry man. Our mom died in a fire when I was just a baby. Dean was four. I can’t remember her but-“

                “Sam!” Dean cut off his brother rambling. Castiel already knew that she was gone, but he figured it wasn’t a good time to be given the whole story behind it.

                “It’s okay.” Cas shrugged. “After all, it was my fault really. Gabriel and his friends were swimming in the river. I knew the current was strong and I wasn’t the best swimmer at the time, but I jumped in anyways. It was fine for awhile, but then I started struggling and drifted too far away from the other boys. Everything was chaos, I was swallowing water, next thing I know I’m being pushed onto a rock. My mom had jumped in after me. She was pushed under when she heaved me up, and hit her head on a rock. They found her body over a mile downstream.”

                Now both Dean and Sam seemed to have their eyes jumping out of their sockets. Luckily, they were saved awkward replies by Ellen. “You boys just going to stand on the front porch gawking at each other all night?”

                Dean coughed. “Right, sorry. Ellen, this is Cas. Cas, Ellen.”

                “Nice to meet you Cas.” Ellen smiled. “Hope these boys here didn’t do that too you.” Her smiled faltered but stayed firmly planted as she gestured towards his black eye. “That’s quite a shiner you got there boy.”

                “Uhm, some boys and I had a…disagreement. Dean saved me.”

                “Disagreement?” Dean snorted. “Those douche bags were going full on Rocky on your ass. C’mon, let’s go in.” Ellen nodded, muttering, “Bout damn time.” Before turning and striding towards the kitchen, followed closely by the three apparently starving boys. Castiel looked around in awe. This was nothing like his house. It wasn’t exactly dirty, but at his house his father expected a heavenly level of cleanliness at all times. Even when he beat Castiel so bad there was blood splattered everywhere he always demanded that his son clean it. After all, he was the one who really needed the practice. “Your soul is tainted, Castiel. I only hope one day you can clean the filth from it.” Zachariah always sad this with his sad, practiced smile. The one Castiel knew meant he didn’t believe it would ever be possible.

                Another difference was the atmosphere. It was light and warm and welcoming. It screamed home in all the ways Castiel only knew from memories before the river. And with every passing year, they faded that much more. Jo was laughing, nuzzled up to Benny while he prepared the ingredients for dinner.

                “Just rub it in, why don’t you.” Charlie, Cas surmised, grumbled as she flopped down at the kitchen table with The Hobbit book inches from her face.

                “It’s my fault you decided it would be a good idea to suck face with Ruby-fucking-Faye.” Jo shot back.

                “Did a bit more than just make out.” Charlie smiled with a sly smirk.

                “Great, now I need to bleach my brain.” Sam grumbled to everyone’s amusement. Cas stood in the kitchen doorway, just taking the scene in. “C’mon man.” Dean clapped his shoulder, making Castiel jump. “Everyone, meet Cas.”

                “Hey Cas.” Jo smiled.

                “Badass eye, dude.” Charlie grinned.

                “Nice to meet you, brother.” Benny drawled.

                “What the hell happened to you, kid?” A burly man sitting at the far corner of the kitchen table asked. Castiel hadn’t realized he was there, too busy watching the teenagers banter back and forth to notice the until now silent figure.

                “Some asshole students apparently.” Ellen answered for Cas, bending down to kiss Bobby, Cas guessed, before heading to the fridge for beer.

                “Damn shame, kids nowadays. If I hear of any of you doing something like that-“ Bobby leveled everyone with a glance before continuing. “-then I’ll kick your ass into next year. Got it?”

                “Yes sir.” Everyone replied pleasantly before Dean made his way to the cabinet for snacks.

                “Popcorn good?” he held up the box for Cas to inspect. Castiel frowned even as his stomach gave a grumble, reminding him of his missed lunch.

                “But won’t that ruin our appetite?” Everyone laughed. Chuckling, Ellen said, “Believe me. With Benny here cooking, that’s not something you need to worry about. I’ve never seen anyone pass on seconds, no matter how full they are.”

                “Now wonder you’re so skinny!” Bobby exclaimed. “Growing boys gotta eat. None of this appetite crap.”

                “Yes sir.” Castiel seriously replied, bowing his head slightly. After all, this was Bobby Singer’s house, and that made his word law if it was anything like Castiel’s home.           

                “Dude, lighten up. No need to be nervous here.” Sam smiled at him. “Go on, sit down while we get the popcorn ready. Popcorn is alright, right?”

                “It sounds perfect.” Castiel smiled, hesitating before sitting down. “But I should help you.”

                “No way man. You’re a guest.” Dean smiled, grabbing three bags from the box. Castiel winced slightly as he sat. Charlie looked up from her book with a knowing smirk before returning to Bilbo being, well, a kickass Hobbit. She had enough gay friends throughout the years to know what the day after looked like for bottoms.

                “I was thinking we could watch a movie. Your choice.”

                “I don’t know many movies, Dean.” Cas replied.

                “What?” Everyone seemed to snap their gaze to Cas, who shifted uncomfortably. “Yes. I watch documentaries every now and then but really nothing else.” Castiel tentatively fiddled with his sleeves, a blush creeping up his face. He knew other kids watched movies, hell Gabriel had gone every weekend when he was still home. But Zachariah disapproved of them in his house and Castiel hadn’t exactly had anywhere else to go to watch them.

                “Wait. You mean you’ve never seen Star Wars. Or Lord of the Rings. Or Harry Potter. Or, well, anything awesome?” Charlie seemed to take this as a personal insult. “Oh we are so watching Star Wars tonight. Just let me finish this chapter and I’ll meet you guys upstairs.”

                No one objected, so Sam pulled out his homework to work on while Charlie continued reading. Once the popcorn was done, Cas and Dean headed upstairs to his and Sam’s room. Dean set the popcorn on what could only be Sam’s desk before popping the disk for what he explained was the fourth but really the first Star Wars into the DVD player. The beds were simple, with a closet next to the door and a bed stand separating the two sides of the room. The TV was strategically located equally in both halves. What could only be Deans side of the room was covered in posters of cars, bikini clad girls, and classic rock posters. Sam’s side was a bit more reserved, the posters all something you would think of seeing in a classroom. There was an overflowing bin of dirty laundry in the corner and a dresser with a collection of knives and guns in a glass case on top of it. Other than that, there weren’t really any other personal touches.

                Dean grabbed the popcorn and plopped down onto his bed. “C’mere man.” He smiled. Frowning Castiel stepped forward. They didn’t have much time before Sam and Charlie joined them. Dean’s smile froze on his face as Cas sank down between his legs. When he reached for the belt though Dean finally sprang into action. “Cas, what the fuck!” He slapped his hands away and scooted back onto the bed, putting more distance between them.

                “What’s wrong Dean? I thought that was why you asked me here?” Castiel frowned.

                “No, man! Why would you even think that?” Dean seemed entirely too freaked out for the situation in Castiel’s humble opinion.

                Cas shrugged. “It’s the only reason anyone wants me for.”

                Deans panicked face softened. “Cas, this isn’t how friends work. Friends hang out just to hang out. No strings attached. Got it?” He clearly wanted to say more, but couldn’t come up with the words for it.

                “I understand.” Castiel nodded, blushing again. There it was. Friends. Dean actually wanted to be friends with him.

                “Good.” Dean coughed. “Now get up here man.” He patted the spot next to him. Cas climbed onto the bed and accepted the popcorn Dean offered, a respectful distance between them. They sat in silence a moment, the crunch and squeak of popcorn the only noise to be heard. Finally, Dean quietly asked. “So it’s true then. You really do, you know, in the bathroom?”

                “Yes.”

                “You shouldn’t do that for those assholes. You deserve better, Cas. Don’t let them just use you like that.”

                Charlie and Sam chose that moment to make their appearance, causing the boys to quickly sit up and put the conversation on hold. “Ready?” Charlie smiled, snapping the remote up and pressing play. Castiel paid devout attention throughout the whole film and found he actually enjoyed it quite a bit. But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about Deans words. _You deserve better._ No, Cas thought bitterly, I really don’t.

                Dinner was as delicious as promised, and for the first time in his life, Castiel got seconds. When Ellen found out Cas was going back to an empty house, she said she ‘Wasn’t hearing any of this nonsense’ and that’s how Cas ended up in the bathroom changing into some of Deans pajamas. He had taken awhile looking for a long sleeve shirt suitable for sleeping and ended up settling on a hoodie. Both that and the pants he chose were a bit big, but they would do for the night. His cloths were put in the wash so they would be clean for school tomorrow, and upon Sam’s insistence, he and Dean sat on the bed and got to work on their homework.

                It was a comfortable sort of silence, filled with nothing but the scratching of pens on paper. Halfway though his algebra, he grew tired of the long sleeves snagging on his pencil and smearing his work. With a sigh of exasperation, he pushed the sleeves up to his elbows and went back to work. It was another few seconds before he realized Dean had stopped writing. Looking up, Castiel saw those green eyes trained on his arms and a serious frown pulling Dean’s eyebrows together.

                Shit.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean tried to count all the scars and scabs, he really did. But somewhere after 30 on only one arm he gave up. What the hell. Seriously. What the fucking hell. He knew that Cas was bullied and that he had problems and all but still, he never would have thought that the guy was doing this to himself. Cas looked up. He knew that Dean saw. The one cut grating Dean the most was the fresh one, the one that couldn’t have been more than a few hours old. Frowning deeper, Dean realized that his friend was still feeling this when he had been with him today. Hell, he had probably done it at school.

                Cas’ hands automatically went to his sleeves, trying to hide the scars again. Without thought, Dean’s hand flew out to stop him. “Cas, why-“

                “I’m tired, Dean.” Castiel interrupted him.

                “But Cas-“

                “Dean!” Castiel shouted, ending the conversation before angrily shoving his sleeves down and cramming his homework back into his bag. “I’m going to bed now.” He slid from the bed to the sleeping bag they had pulled out for him, effectively ending the conversation by rolling on his side and yanking the cover over his head.

                “Alright.” Dean shakily said. “Goodnight, Cas”

                “Goodnight Dean.” Came the muffled reply from the floor. Dean sat there a few minutes longer staring at the prone form on the floor before putting his own homework away and turning off the lights. Sam came in about an hour later. Both Dean and Castiel pretended to be asleep, but neither of them got much shut eye that night.

                Dean couldn’t get those arms out of his mind. It wasn’t just the scars, although the kid clearly had to be going through some serious shit to do that to himself. But it wasn’t just that. Dean had been with quite a few chicks in his young life, and some of them liked it kinky. He knew rope burns when he saw them. And granted, they were faded, but still there. He remembered the rumors, the way Cas acted. Dean wondered how many douche wads had used his newfound friend. How many of them liked tying the poor boy up and taking what they wanted. Dean decided right then and there, he was going to teach Cas how to stand up for himself. After all, if anything Dean had learned in his shitty life, this was definitely something worth passing on.

                They woke up late the next morning and rushed through morning routines so they would get to school on time. “Here you go, Cas.” Sam said, setting his clean and neatly folded cloths on the bed. Of course the nerd would have already been up and ready.

                “Thank you.” Castiel scooped the cloths up and made for the bathroom. “Hey, no way man! I need in there to brush my teeth.” Dean exclaimed.

                “Oh.” Cas stopped awkwardly with arms full of laundry and looked around confused. Dean finished up on his laces and stood. “Just change in here man.” He smiled walking across the hall to the bathroom. Castiel looked fearfully at Sam, still in the room. “Its fine man, nothing I haven’t seen before.” Sam smiled. Still he hesitated, setting the cloths down again. “Alright. It’s just, uh, well would you mind stepping out of the room for a moment?” Castiel blushed. _Shit, the scars._ Dean realized.

                “O-kay?” Sam gave him a look before grabbing his bag and heading downstairs. Cas shut the door, not meeting Deans eyes. By the time Dean finished up and went back to his room, he was done getting dressed. “Ellen got an extra toothbrush out for you.”

                “Thank you.” Cas briskly walked by and Dean straightened up a bit before heading downstairs together. They grabbed a few slices of toast and made their way to the car. Jo rode to school with them, cheerful yet awkward conversations starting up and stopping the whole ride. Once they made it to school, everyone scattered to their respective classes.

                “Hey Cas, can I talk to you?” Dean grabbed his arm before he could hurry off.

                “Of course, Dean.” Castiel shuffled uneasily.

                “Listen man, I meant it last night. You shouldn’t let anyone use you. And I know it might be hard getting them to understand that no means no now and all so I was thinking-well. I mean, you see I’m a great fighter. And if you wanted to I was thinking that um, I could teach you some self defense. You know, if you want. Could help with the bullying too.”

                “Self defense?” Cas frowned. “But-“

                “C’mon man, just say yes. It’ll make me feel better knowing you can protect yourself while I’m not there.”

                “Okay.” Cas briefly smiled.

                “Great!” Dean beamed. “Today after school?”

                “Sounds like a date.” Cas smirked. After all, his father wouldn’t be home until late tonight.

                “Yeah, whatever.” Dean chuckled as they moved towards the front doors. The day passed well enough. Dean made a habit of going out of his way to trail Cas to his classes. No bathroom incidents were going to happen on his watch. Castiel even ate with them, and went so far as to laugh at a few of his jokes. After school, they all headed back to his house. After a quick snack and “hellos” and “back agains” all around, Dean and Cas changed and headed into the backyard. Dean wore a T-shirt and workout pants, while Castiel grabbed up another hoodie.

                “You’re gonna burn up in that man.”

                “I’ll be fine, Dean.” And Dean let it drop at that.

                They spent about an hour, Dean going over the proper way to punch, where to aim the throws at, and a little bit of basic grappling. Smiling and covered in dirt and sweat, they headed back in to shower and change.

                “You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” Ellen asked as they headed out.

                “Thank you but no. My father gets back in tonight and I’m sure he will want some home-cooked food waiting for him.”

                “You cook, man?” Dean stopped. God, why did that seem so hot?

                “Yes, ever since my mother died I’ve taken over a bit of the cooking and cleaning in the house.” Well, all of the cooking and cleaning. But they didn’t need to know that.

                “Wow, real housewife, aren’t you?” Dean winked.

                Cas shrugged, smiling sadly. “I suppose.” Ellen gave him a hug goodbye and a smiled ‘See you soon, kid’ before Dean lead him to the car. As soon as they were on the road, Dean brought up the subject that he had been avoiding all day. “So, cutting huh?”

                Castiel briefly tensed before relaxing again, accepting that this was a conversation Dean was going to make him have. “Yes.”

                “Yeah, but, why man?”

                “It makes the pain go away.” Cas shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

                “You, uh-“ Fuck, this was hard, Dean thought. “You want to kill yourself?” Dean’s voice dropped.

                “No.” Castiel frowned. “That would be quick and easy. I don’t deserve the easy way out.”

                “What does that even mean, man!” Dean slammed his palm against the steering well, Cas’ low self esteem giving rise to Deans protective anger.

                “It means I’m a murderer. I have blood on my hands Dean. I killed my mother, destroyed my family. Heaven doesn’t want me Dean, and I have to serve my penance.” He all but screamed, looked shocked at his outburst.

                “That why you suck guys off, Cas? And which bastards tied you up. Those rope burns weren’t pretty, man. I’m going to kick in the faces of whatever assholes did that to you.”

                “It doesn’t matter Dean.” Cas turned away, eyes fixed on the window.

                “It fucking matters! Seriously, there are a lot of douche bags at our school. But you? You’re kind and sweet and so much better than them. Your mom, I mean, yeah it sucks that she died but it wasn’t your fault. Understand? Not your fault Cas.”

                “You’re wrong.” He breathed so quietly that Dean barely heard it. Dean turned to him, ready to scream sense into him when he stopped. Silent tears were streaming down Cas’ cheeks. Sighing, Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey man.” He said, tone gentling. “I know life can suck sometimes. God do I know it. But bad things happen to good people all the time. Accidents, Cas. That are out of your control and, well you can’t keep blaming yourself.” Silence filled the car as they pulled up to the house. “Hey, Cas.” Dean grabbed his hand, waiting for the pale boy to look at him. “If you ever need someone to talk to or anything, I’m here. I may suck at it, but I’m here. And I’m not leaving.”

                “Thank you Dean.” Castiel smiled sadly before opening his door. Dean watched him until the front door closed behind the broken angel before driving off. Gripping the wheel, Dean vowed to do whatever he could for his friend. He was sure there was nothing as beautiful as that smile, and Dean was determined to see more of it in the future. And hell, Dean may have a fucked up past, but they both did. Maybe they could fix each other. Dean sure did hope so, because in the short time Cas has been in Dean’s life, he has somehow managed to get his foot in the door. And Dean didn’t let people in easy. Once they were there, no way was Dean going to let them slip away. Not when he still had breath to fight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very dark chapter. Lots of violence and abuse, nothing happy about this one. You have been warned!!!

                Castiel made a lasagna and helped himself to a small slice before storing the rest in the fridge for his father. A few hours of homework later found Cas curled up asleep in bed. He didn’t wake up when his father came home, helping himself to a decidedly large portion of lasagna before trudging up the stairs to his sons room. A rough hand over his mouth woke him up. Large, frightened eyes strained up to meet his fathers.

                “I missed you son.” Zachariah smiled cruelly before removing his hand to peel off his cloths. “Strip.” He commanded and Castiel obeyed numbly, _you deserve better_ muttered in a husky tone drowned out by his father’s smirk. “Bend over.” And he did, bracing his arms on his bed. Zachariah pulled a gag out of his pocket. Castiel pushed it in into his own mouth willingly. His father pulled some duct tape out of the bedside drawer and wrapped it around Castiel’s head twice. It was going to be a rough night. With no preamble, Zachariah thrust all the way in with a quick jerk of his hips. Cas screamed behind the gag, feeling himself tearing from the inside.

                “Yes.” Zachariah breathed. He grabbed Castiel’s wrists and tied them snuggly behind his back, rocking the whole time. The position caused screaming pain to tear at his shoulders. Whimpering, he was shoved further into the bed as his arms were cruelly pushed further up his back. “That’s a good boy.” Zachariah crooned, fingernails tearing chunks of skin out of his back and hips. Castiel cried, nostrils flaring for breath as snot, blood, and tears trickled into the sheets. He would have to wash them tomorrow, Cas thought sadly. Zachariah was slamming into him now, there would definitely be bruises on his ass in the morning. Finishing with a groan, his father pulled out of him. Wiping himself off, Zachariah left the room. “Wait here Castiel. I’m going to shower.” He threw over his shoulder on the way out. Shaking, Cas sank to his knees and rested his head against the mattress. Everything hurt, the awkward position giving rise to aches in all his straining muscles and roughly twisted joints.

                Zachariah came back half an hour later. He untied his son, ripped the duct tape along with a good chunk of hairs out before ordered him to go shower. After all, he was a mess. Spitting the gag out, Castiel stood and shakily made his way to the bathroom. A blow to the back of his head halted his progress. “What? No ‘yes sir’? Don’t you have any respect for your father?” A sharp kick to his ribs cut off his response. “After all I do for you.” Punch to the back. “Fed you.” Ribs. “Cloth you.” Kidney. “Send you to school.” Shoulder. “Let you live in my house.” Punch. “When you-“ Thigh. “Killed.” Punch. “My.” Kick. “Wife!” The blows went on for awhile longer before Zachariah tired out.

                “Now look what you’ve done.” He tried to scold lightly, still breathing heavily. “You made me angry. You know how I get when I’m angry.” He smiled at the shivering, naked boy curled up on the floor in front of him. “I trust you learned your lesson. Now, you have school tomorrow but after that I was thinking we could go to the cabin for the weekend. After all, my discipline has been slipping. Either that, or this new school is a bad influence on you. With a soul as black as yours, we can’t have anything else dirtying it, now can we?” He smirked before stepping over his son and leaving him there to cry through the pain. Seconds, minutes, or maybe hours later Castiel rolled onto his knees and crawled to the shower. All the blood and dried semen washed down the drain, and still the tears came.

                But this was his penance. And penance meant pain. Cas eyed the razor longingly before going back to his room. He was already in so much pain, a few cuts wouldn’t help at all right now. He stripped the sheets and brought them to the laundry room before making his bed up with some fresh ones. It was 3:30 by the time he crawled into bed. Falling asleep instantly, his aching body slipped into blackness. He rose at the first alarm, groaning. Though he wanted nothing more than to stay in bed for days, he knew it would only be worse if his father found out he was late for school. Looking in the mirror, Castiel saw bruises and scrapes all over his torso and legs. His left foot throbbed painfully from a knock against the furniture in his fall, causing him to walk with a slight limp. His wrists were raw and angry, and his ass cheeks were mottled with bruises. His ribs seemed intact, but definitely tender. Wincing, he pulled on a thick sweater to cushion his body the best he could.

                He headed for the bus stop, headphones streaming classical music into his ears. Usually, calm music helped relax him. This morning, it only amped up his anxiety. He didn’t notice the car that pulled up beside him until the driver got out and raced to his side. Dean grabbed his arm tightly over the bruise and pulled Castiel around to face him. Wincing, Cas recoiled from the grip Dean instantly released before pulling his headphones out. “Hello Dean.” He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, Dean was persistent with pursuing this friendship.

                “Hey, sorry man but I knew where you lived and figured that since I had a car and all…I mean I sent you like 5 messages but you didn’t reply and I thought-are you alright man?” It seemed like 10 trains of thought had all collided at once on the way from Dean’s brain to mouth. Castiel knew he looked like shit, bags under his eyes, skin drawn and pale and still shaking slightly from last night. His cloths may be fresh but he didn’t take the usual care dressing this morning and knew it was obvious.

                “I’m fine.” Cas bit out, wishing Dean would stop looking at him with so much concern. So much _pity._

                “No man, you look like hell. Did something happen? If anyone did anything-“

                “I said I’m fine Dean!” Cas shouted, turning away to storm off. Dean grabbed his shoulder unexpectedly to halt his progress. Castiel screamed, pain flaring bright and sharp as he halfway crumpled. Dean jerked back like he had been bitten.

                “Shit man, I’m so sorry.” Dean was frantically grabbing at Cas’ shirt, trying to peel it away to see how hurt he was. Castiel stumbled back, blatant fear and panic shining in his eyes. “Don’t Dean. Just don’t.”

                “You’re hurt man. Someone should look at it.”

               Cas shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’ve had worse.”

                “Who did this Cas? C’mon man, you can tell me.”

                He just shook his head, sorrow and exhaustion creeping in. “It doesn’t matter. Just…let’s go to school Dean.” Dean kept looking at him like he was trying to see through all the layers Cas carefully built around himself. Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, Dean relented and opened the passenger side door to his still-running car. Sam stared up at them with wide eyes (after all he had seen and heard everything that just happened) before ungracefully climbing out and slipping into the backseat. It showed how tired Cas was that he didn’t even argue, just slid in and let Dean close the door behind him.

                “Castiel.” Sam started tentatively when Dean resuming his driver’s seat and threw the car into gear. “You know we’re here for you man. If you ever need anything, then we’re here.”

                “I know Sam.” Cas said quietly, even though he would never accept their help. He would never tell them. He would do anything for them to never find out about his shame.

                The day passed in a haze. It seemed that Dean had everyone watching out for him now. Sam, Jo, even Benny had walked him to class at one or more points during the day, going well out of their way to do so. His protests were met with “Hey, it’s what friends are for.” There it was again. Friends. Something Castiel never dreamed of having again and now it seemed he had a whole family of them. In the car after school, Dean asked if he wanted to spend some time with them this weekend.

                “I can’t. My father wants to go camping this weekend. He owns a cabin a few miles outside of town in the woods. He tries to go there at least once or twice a month.” Castiel emotionlessly relayed the rehearsed message that had been ingrained into his brain.

                “Oh.” Dean sounded so sad, like he could hear the resignation equivalent to a jail sentence in Cas’ tone. “Your dad, uh, is he the one who hurt you.”

                “No.” Cas answered, but his prolonged hesitation said the exact opposite. Dean sat quietly for a moment, then, “Hey, you know that Bobby and Ellen are good friends with the sheriff right? Jody Mills, she’s a good cop, and if you wanted to we could ask a favor, I mean, if you think a weekend alone with the old man is a bad idea or something…” Dean trailed off, clearly frustrated at words that wouldn’t come.

                “No.” Castiel said firmly. After all, he was the one who deserved punishment, not his father. Dean pulled over to the side and stopped the car. It appeared that he was determined to talk, and didn’t want any interruptions. Castiel sighed and waited for Dean to begin.

                “Is that why, I mean, do you cut yourself because of your dad?”

                “No.” Cas said. And it was partially true. “I do it because, well, it’s not just that. It’s everything Dean. I feel empty and broken and just black inside. Some days I can’t feel anything, and other days it’s like I feel everything. Like thinking, fuck even just _existing_ hurts. And the cutting, it makes it go away for a bit. I just want it to go away Dean.” And fuck if all the emotions that he kept carefully tucked away didn’t rear their ugly heads and stream down his face in salty wet tracks. Castiel choked through the first sobs. “I just want it all to stop.”

                “Hey, shhh, its okay.” Dean awkwardly wrapped his arms around his shaking frame and held him close. “I’m here man. I’m here. Just let it all out.” And Cas did, crying silently yet violently until there was nothing left. Dean just held him and rubbed reassuring yet gentle circles into his back. “You should talk to someone. Like a professional.” Dean said once it was clear Castiel was finished. He still wouldn’t let go, and Cas clung tight like Dean was the only thing keeping him from hurtling to oblivion.

                “I have a therapist.” Castiel automatically replied. “Alastair Payne.” He added on.

                “Oh.” Dean said awkwardly. “Weird name for a therapist.” His nose crinkled a bit before his expression relaxed again. “I’m still here though. I mean, if you want to talk to me. Or Sam, I mean, he’s better at all this than I am. But, you know, just whenever you need us, ask.”

                “Thank you Dean.” Cas smiled, finally pulling back to his own seat.

                Dean looked uncomfortable. “One more question man.”

                “What is it Dean?” Cas tilted his head.

                “Did you hurt yourself today.” Dean seemed to suddenly find great interest in the steering wheel as he studiously avoided his friends gaze.

                “No.” Cas smiled, pushing up his sleeves for Dean to confirm. He failed to add on that he was in so much physical pain it wouldn’t have helped anyways. Dean finally looked at him, trailing his eyes all over the scars. He fixated on the raw wrists and large bruises dotting his arms. Castiel looked down, realizing too late that he had more than just scars visible now. Quickly, he tugged the sleeves back down.

                “Cas-“ He started.

                “Just take me home Dean.” Castiel set his jaw, refusing to continue.

               “Cas-“ Dean tried again. “I don’t want you going-“

                “It’s my life Dean!” Cas shouted, screamed really. He was angry. His life may have not been fine, but it was at least his until Dean came into the picture. “Just leave me alone.” He growled, determined to get Dean off his back. He couldn’t find out. Castiel wouldn’t let him.

                “Alright.” Dean finally relented, starting up the car and finishing the drive back to Cas’ house. They pulled up and stopped in silence. “Listen, I meant it-“

                “Just leave me alone Dean. Just…stop caring.” Cas scrambled out of the car and slammed the door before Dean could respond. He stormed up the small path and closed the door, locking it before he slid to his knees. He waited until the car was a rumble in the distance before breaking down for the second time that day. He had a friend who cared, who really cared. But just like everything else in his life, he screwed it up. He had to push them away, before he could hurt them or vice versa, those were the only outcomes he knew of. Castiel cried out to the empty hallway, listening to the echo until there was nothing left to give. With one last choked sob, he stood and made his way to his room. It made no sense to cook, his father never ate on a night before the cabin anyways.

                Cas packed the basics and made himself the most simple dinner off a P-B-and-J before settling in to wait for his father. Zachariah arrived home just before seven. He set his briefcase down in the office and picked up the suitcase he had packed the night before and made his way to the car with nothing more than a hand gesture towards Castiel, who dutifully grabbed his duffle and followed his father. The schedule was the same every weekend.

                After his mother’s death, Zachariah gambled more than he ever had before. It got pretty bad, so bad that the people he were indebted to came to the house. Luckily, Gabriel and Anna were gone by the time they came to collect, usually out on an ice cream/movie run that Cas had graciously declined. Zachariah’s lone shard was kind enough to accept Castiel as the equivalent of whatever debt Zachariah had dug himself into by the end of the month. At the beginning it was a variety of people, over the years, his father had managed to make a deal with Dick Roman, so his was the only one that Castiel had to service. Then came Lucas Novak, Cas’ uncle who happened upon them one day when he came into the house unannounced to find his brother buried to the hilt in his prostrate nephew. Zachariah tucked himself in and pulled Lucas into the study for a long chat while Castiel waited anxiously on his knees. His uncle came back in almost an hour later with a small smile. He crouched in front of his nephew and wiped the tears away before leaning in to whisper, “You’re my bitch now.”

Then came Michael Milligan, a doctor who fixed him up for the small fee of a weekend every now and then in exchange for his silence. Then there was Alistair Pain, who counseled Castiel into hiding any hints of child abuse to those few in the system who cared. Then there was Azazel Deamon, who knew how to whore Cas out to the highest bidder for him and Zachariah to split the money every now and then. His sister, Lilith, helped with this of course.

                Every weekend followed the same schedule. It was, after all, where his father preferred to do his business. Fridays were strictly for clients. Castiel would strip and do whatever was commanded of him from his father’s ‘friends’. This was always filmed, for insurance his father claimed, though he could hear the sounds coming from Zachariah’s room every now and then from those nights. Then there was Saturday, where his father would claim what was ‘rightfully his’. Violently and as many times and he could fit in. Castiel would get his first and only meal for the weekend that night. Then came Sunday. It was his retribution, as his father said. His punishment for the death of his mother and what that did to their family. Those were the worst days, when his father would tie him up and let himself scream until his throat was raw. He loved taking his anger out on Castiel. Reminding him of Naomi, of all that he had ruined in his short life. How dirty he was. How much he deserved everything shoved his way.

                Then he would carve into the beaten flesh, cutting and slicing and burning what he could get away with. Then he would move to Castiel’s dick. This was a recent occurrence, ever since he caught his jacking off partway through middle school. Because Castiel was his and his alone to do what he pleased with. No one would touch his son without his permission, not even Castiel himself. Pleasure wouldn’t come unless Zachariah said so, and he reminded Cas in the most permanent way. At least once a month, he would carve KILLER three times into Castiel’s dick, on the left, right, and top, so there was no way Castiel could avoid it if he ever tried pleasuring himself again. He would go after the bloody flesh with a red hot knife and some black ink, to carve the message again and again into his soft flesh. And Cas would scream and scream until his voice was gone and blood was spewing out of his mouth from his brutalized throat. Then he would explore, cutting and burning and beating as he went, leaving his marks of ownership anywhere that could be covered up. This weekend at the cabin was no different. This weekend was no more than he deserved.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

                Dean was off this weekend. Everyone in his ramshackle family could tell. First off, he went to the library, of his own free will and everything. He picked up as many books as he could find on depression, child abuse, suicidal thoughts, and self-harm. He googled page after page on the matter. He lost count of how many times he picked up the phone to call Sheriff Jody Mills. He picked at his food and answered any questions thrown his way in the most non-committal grunts he could manage. Everything he read on the matter turned his stomach, because he only had to close his eyes to see every fucked up scenario being forced on Cas. He took a long, well-deserved break from his research to go punch the shit out of a punching bag for a few hours.

                He and Sam may not have had the ideal childhood. After their mother died in the fire, their dad lost his shit. John had been a Marine once upon a time, and he put his training to good use as he followed every possible lead he could find on the arsonist. Sometimes he would drop Sam and Dean off with Bobby, back before he and Ellen got together. Bobby had lost his wife as well, and did his best for his friend in his time of grief. As the years wore on, he and John fought more and more about John “Getting his shit together and raising his kids right.” But John couldn’t give it up. He was always so close, his wife’s murderer just out of reach. Dean may have been just a kid, but he couldn’t find it in him to let his father down. He also couldn’t let Sam down either. So Dean stepped up where his father slacked off and basically raised Sam as they traveled the country. Sometimes his father would disappear for weeks on end, and Dean would do anything and everything to provide for Sam.

                He stole food and forged signatures. He even went so far as to suck some guys off in alleyways for a $20 every now and then, but only when he was desperate. That life fucked his head, that’s why he sought after girls so fervently, and why he was kinda freaking out since Cas had somehow gotten so deep under his skin. Sure, he played it off as his protective older brother instinct at first, but now he wasn’t so sure. They were just two fucked up teenagers clinging together in the dark.

                His life ended as it began. It was less than a year ago when they finally found the guy. John wanted to go alone to confront him, but Dean had insisted on going along. Things got a bit hazy after they cornered the guy in a warehouse. It hadn’t even occurred to Dean to call the cops, because this was personal. But Dean misjudged the guy. Before he knew it, there was a gun pressed cold against his temple and Dean realized with a start that it was all over. He was going to die. And then his father was there, wrestling the guy. Two shots went off and John jerked back before slamming the guys head into the concrete and knocking him out. Dean scrambled to his side, but the blood was everywhere and Dean really started to panic.

                Cool as could be, John told him to go grab the first aid kit out of the Impala. Dean left, but by the time he got back the whole place was in flames. The arsonist had already doused it with gasoline. Dimly, through the smoke and flames, Dean could see the two figures lying still and burning on the other side. His father’s lighter gleamed once before blackening to a crisp. He should have known it would end this way. But it came as a surprise all the same. Dean wasn’t sure what to do after that, so he numbly went back to Sam and called up Bobby. It wasn’t until he hung up the phone that the tears came, and he and Sam gripped each other and wouldn’t let go until the next morning when Bobby showed up at the motel they were staying at after driving all night. It was only natural that he adopted the two of them, after all they were family.

                Dean knew their father had neglected them, and he knew that their father beat them occasionally after too many drinks and too many complaints. But still, Dean knew how scared that made him, and could only image what Cas’ relationship was like with his father. The only difference was that Dean had Sam, and Cas had no one at home to help him, to pick him up and put him back together. That weekend was the longest weekend of Dean’s life. And by the time Monday dragged around, he still had no idea how to help Cas. Sure, reading about the problem was one thing. But none of the solutions he found seemed like something Dean could do. At the same time, the stuff he read seemed so bad that he didn’t want to have to help because he sure as hell didn’t want that to mean that’s what Cas was suffering.

                Monday morning, Dean woke up early again and went to Cas’ house, telling Sam to catch a ride with Jo. Sam gave him his patented bitch face because Cas was his friend too, but he didn’t fight Dean on this. The driveway was empty by the time Dean got there, which meant Cas’ father had already left for work. All the texts that Dean sent over the weekend in various stages of panic had been ignored, which only amped up his anxiety. Taking a deep breath and wiping sweaty palms on his jeans, Dean walked up the short path to the front door and knocked as boldly as he could.

                No response. Knock-knock-knock. Nothing. Louder this time. Still nothing. Finally, when he was about to just pick the lock and let himself in, the door finally opened.

                “Cas! Shit-“ All other words faded from his tongue as he took in the figure before him. If he thought his friend had looked like shit before, then this was complete and utter hell. He was pale and shaky, all dark bags under his eyes and dried tears on his cheek.

                “Dean.” Castiel rasped out gruffly, wincing and grabbing his throat. He wore sweats and matching hoodie, too-big socks adorning his otherwise bare feet.

                “Cas.” Dean said again sadly, stepping inside and gently pulling his friend into the softest hug he ever gave. Castiel said nothing, made no move to respond, just shook in his hold until Dean stepped back. “What happened man?”

                “It’s nothing.” Cas winced again, rubbing absentmindedly at his throat. “Why are you here Dean?”

                “I came to give you a ride. And, you know, to check up on you.”

                “Oh.” Castiel looked over at the clock. “Bit early. School doesn’t start for another two hours.”

                “I know man. But I figured we could grab some breakfast and just, talk I guess.”

               Castiel nodded absentmindedly. “I’ll go get dressed then.” Dean followed him upstairs, but Cas stopped short of his room. “Wait downstairs please.” Cas asked so quietly that Dean didn’t even push, just breathed a quick “Alright” before retreating back down the stairs. Cas pulled the bloody sheets off his bed and changed all the dressings as quickly as possible before gingerly stepping into jeans and a sweater, pulling on some worn converse before joining Dean downstairs. They didn’t say anything, just gathered up Cas’ schoolwork and piled into the Impala. Dean went through the drive-through at some fast food restaurant and got them breakfast burritos and coke. Normally, Dean didn’t like messy food in his car, but this was a conversation he wanted to have in private. He drove to an abandoned park before stopping the car and digging into his food, a bit reluctant to start talking.

                Castiel devoured his food like he hadn’t eaten in weeks and was already licking his fingers clean before Dean was even halfway through his. Without a word, Dean handed over the rest of his burrito for Cas to finish, the sudden turning in his stomach killing his appetite. His friend ate that as well, and then they sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, Dean began.

                “My dad died a few months ago.” And with that he launched into the whole story, telling Cas about the arsonist and life on the road and how he took care of Sammy and did…things he wouldn’t elaborate on to get him and Sam enough food when cash ran low. About how his Dad was shot saving Dean, about how he lit the whole place up in flames. And about how Dean felt it was his fault. He told Cas about how sometimes he closed his eyes and couldn’t remember what his mom looked like. About how he couldn’t remember her voice some nights. He told him about how Dean would take most of the blows for Sam when his Dad was drinking. About how keeping Sam safe was the only thing holding Dean together some days. He poured his heart out, opening up like never before. And Castiel sat there and listened the whole time. There was no judgment or pity on his face, just open-minded acceptance of Dean’s whole fucked up history.

                “I’m sorry Dean.” He finally rasped. Dean nodded, wiping angrily at the few tears he felt on his cheeks.

                “I’m fine now. I mean, I have like a real family and all. And I’m worried about you man, cuz even through the worst of it Sam and I still had each other. But you man-“

                “I’m fine Dean.” Castiel tensed. He knew this was coming, but still was reluctant.

                “Cas.”

                “We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon.” Cas changed the subject coldly before softening. “After school though, there’s somewhere I want to show you. It’s where I go to be alone.”

                “Alright.” Dean reluctantly started the car. After all, Cas had agreed to spend more time together again later. The school day passed quickly, the two barely talking. And then school ended and they were back in the Impala. Castiel told Dean to just drive to his house and they would walk from there. Dean parked out front, driveway still empty before following Cas. They walked for a few blocks before turning off to a path through the sparse forest there. They walked in companionable silence for about fifteen minutes before coming upon a tree house. Cas smiled when he saw it.

                “Gabriel and I found this, back when mom was still alive. Dad helped us fix it up, and mom made some curtains and a rug. After she died, Gabriel never came back here. But I did, it was my way of being close to her, to being close to that time where our family was still happy again. It kinda became my escape.” He fondly ran his hand over the wooden plank nailed to the tree to serve as a ladder. “I haven’t shown anyone this before.” He smiled sadly before scrambling up and into the tree house, followed closely by Dean. The only furniture in the small space was a locked trunk in the corner of the room. Cas unlocked it and stepped aside for Dean to inspect the contents.

                “It’s mainly my mom’s stuff. Dad got rid of most of it, but I took what I could.” Cas held up each item as he went though, the two of them sitting Indian style in front of it. His moms wedding dress, the books she read to him as a kid, her oven mitts, the pirate costume she made for Cas when he was five, etc. etc. Finally he pulled out a worn leather journal. “I got this for her birthday with six months worth of allowance money. She never got a chance to use it though. It was only a few weeks later when the accident happened.”

                “I’m sorry man.” The journal was placed carefully on the pile of everything else. Without thinking, Dean grabbed it and opened it to the first page. He stared in horror at the title there. ‘My journey of pain and reparation’ by Castiel Novak. Cas snatched it back before Dean could read any further. “That’s private.” Cas said quietly, returning everything to its rightful place before locking the trunk again.

                “Cas, your father, does he hurt you?”

                “Just leave it Dean. Please.” Castiel was still quiet, pleading even. So even though everything in Dean screamed at him not to, he dropped it. “It’s getting late.” He said instead, and so without another word they headed back in silence. Dean told Cas he would see him in the morning before leaving to mull over everything in the car ride home.


	7. Chapter 7

                The next few weeks passed in a blur. Charlie was over mono and in school by now, and Cas for the first time in forever had a small group of friends. Most of the guys stopped harassing him in the bathroom, so now it was only Uriel and Raphael he had to worry about. Crowley for the most part left him alone, but still got verbal jabs in every time he saw him. Then there was Adam Milligan, Michael’s son. He hated Cas, knew how often his father was over with his family. He blamed Castiel for taking his father away from him, and took out his anger whenever he could.

                But Cas had friends now. There was Dean, Sam, Jo, Charlie, and Benny. Then there was Garth Fitzgerald, a goofy but good kid who naturally joined their group. Then came Kevin Tran, Sam’s nerdy friend. Then there was Ruby Faye, who Charlie sometimes went so far as to call her girlfriend. Jessica Moore was Sam’s new girlfriend, much to his teasing older brother’s delight. And then there was Meg Masters. She had dated Crowley back in middle school, but that hadn’t ended well. Cas suspected she only befriended him to get back at Crowley. And of course, Lisa Braeden. She made gooey eyes at Dean all the time, and the two flirted back and forth shamelessly. Still, as far as Cas knew it never went beyond that. And then there was Hannah. She and Meg were the only two Cas ever noticed looking at him like they wanted to eat him. He put a stop to Hannah’s advances, and after that she still spent time with them, but Castiel could tell he had hurt her. Meg was more persistent however, but nothing ever came of her attempts either.

                Cas was getting stronger too. Dean taught him everything he knew about fighting, and the two would spar a couple of times a week so long as Cas wasn’t hurting too much. He had gotten better at acting around Dean though. He had been thrown at first, but now he knew the part to play to keep Dean from looking at him with so much pity in his eyes. Dean checked his wrists daily. More often than not, there were no new scars. Some days though, Castiel still slipped and Dean somehow always knew. He would give Cas that stern look which turned so soft the second Cas pulled up his sleeves. The rope burn had yet to reappear. Castiel told his father that some of the students had been noticing his arms. So Zachariah made sure to use plenty of padding while securing his wrists from there on out, but he took his frustrations out more abusively on other, more easily hidden parts of his body.

                Dean was taking Cas to the gym too. They went rounds with the punching bag, Dean taught him the proper way to lift weights, and they ran. Boy, did they run. Dean didn’t like it so much, but knew it was important for keeping in shape. Castiel loved it though. He felt free as he ran, like he could fly away and shed all the weight that constantly held him down. He was good at it too. His father had always encouraged him to run. When he was younger, when he still had a mom, it was as a proud father cheering on his son. After that, it was because he “loved a nice firm ass to fuck”. It was the one physical activity Castiel bested Dean at, and the feeling of racing ahead of his friend sent him _soaring._ Still, Cas was careful. He always wore sweats that caused him to flush and sweat like he was trapped in a sauna. Dean always gave his choice in attire funny looks, but never said anything.

                More than anything else, Castiel realized he was happy. Happy like he only remembered from years and years back. It came in small bursts, but when it was there it shone. And Cas being happy made Dean happy. He could tell in the way Deans eyes would light up, how he would quirk a smile and the skin around his eyes would crinkle in amusement. Castiel loved that he was the one putting those expressions on Dean’s face, that he was giving his friend back a small piece of what Dean was giving him.

                But then there were the dark days. The days where his father would remind him of his place, of who he was. The days when the bullying would go too far and Cas would forget that he knew how to fight back now. The days when he would drop to his knees in the bathroom. The days when he found a razor in his hand and tears dropping to mix with the blood on his arms. The days when shame would eat at his chest like a disease. The days where he wished more than anything that he had just drowned that day so long ago.

                Then came the day when Castiel felt more pain that he could ever remember. Because it wasn’t physical pain, that he knew how to deal with. No, it was the day Dean finally asked Lisa out. Cas had shown up to lunch to find Dean with his arm draped around his new girlfriend and his tongue dancing with hers. That was when Cas realized how much he had come to care for Dean. How without realizing it, he had let Dean creep behind all of his carefully built walls that all came crumbling down. Jo and Charlie gave him a sad look, but Dean didn’t see him.

                Castiel felt the start of tremors going through his body as he turned and fled to the bathroom. He held back the tears, but still he shook so much. Fumbling for his razor, he had finally freed the blade with twitching hands when the door banged open and Castiel’s solitude was invaded.

                “Oh, don’t look so jumpy mate. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Crowley smiled cruelly. “No offense, but you look like shit.”

                _Fuck this_ , Castiel thought. There were other ways to shut down this pain. With a snarl, he dropped the razor and flew across the room, slamming Crowley into the wall with his newfound strength. The other boys eyes widened in shock. With one hand, he pinned him to the wall using the other to lock the door. Never breaking eye contact, Castiel ran his hands down until he reached Crowley’s hips and he sank down. Freeing the soft flesh from its fabric prison, Castiel mouthed and sucked and jacked the boy to fullness.

                “Fucking hell.” Crowley regained his speech, threading fingers into his hair. Cas groaned, because he knew the other boy would enjoy it, and fervently went to work. Everything he had learned was put to use, and Castiel knew without a doubt that this would be the best blowjob of Crowley’s young life. He held nothing back, pouring all of his rage and frustration into it. He swallowed every last bit, savoring the bitter taste in his mouth because it brought him down. It reminded him of the only thing he was good for anymore. It reminded him of who he was, and where he belonged. Standing, Castiel gathered up his things without a backward glance and made to leave.

                “Not so fast.” Crowley grabbed his wrist. Cas stopped, confused. His job was done after all, wasn’t it?

                “I believe it’s customary to return the favor.” Crowley smiled, not a hint of the earlier mocking cruelty.

                Castiel frowned. “That’s not necessary.”

                Crowley shrugged. “It’s just polite.” And then he grabbed the front of Castiel’s pants, expecting to find an interested member. Instead his hand met soft flesh, still scabbed over from Zachariah’s most recent reminder of killer, killer, killer carved into his son’s most sensitive area. Cas screamed and jolted back as if he had been burned, tears springing to his eyes and breaths coming in sharp, jagged gasps. Crowley stared at him in shock, frozen. Castiel took the opportunity to flee, running straight into Adam on the way out. Adam took one look at him, lips still swollen and behind his shoulder Crowley standing with his dick still out before sneering and saying, “Well you really are a cocksucker aren’t you.” Cas ran and didn’t stop until he found his corner of the library to sob in silent peace.

                Crowley remained where he was for a few minutes, absentmindedly tucking himself back in as he frowned in thought. His earlier suspicion had been quietly eating at him since that first encounter. Now, it all but devoured him. He would have to do some digging. Well, he would have to put some other, easily manipulated bastards onto digging into Castiel Novak’s personal life. Because something was definitely wrong there, and Crowley would be damned if he didn’t get to the bottom of it.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

                Dean had been having a great few weeks. School was actually going pretty good. Cas was doing much better. They spent almost every day after school together. They hung out, worked out, and his friend seemed much happier. Dean still had his suspicions about Cas’ father, but the other boy wasn’t showing signs of abuse ever since that first day, so Dean hoped there wasn’t anything bad going on for Cas at home. Hoped, but wasn’t entirely sure. Still, the other boy remained adamant in refusing any help or any outside involvement. Most weekends were still spent with the bastard, but what could Dean do.

                The bullying still occurred, but much less frequently after word got out that Dean was kicking ass if anyone laid a finger on Castiel and he found out about it. The uh, blow jobs, had stopped too. At least, Dean hoped they had. Not just that, Cas had chicks drooling after him now that he had broken out of his box a little. And Cas wasn’t the only one.

                Dean had had his fair share of action. But Lisa was a bit different from the rest. They hadn’t even done anything yet, but still she was there. Flirting, teasing, and taking his leers at all the other girls in school in stride. Dean found himself spending more and more time with her, always after Cas had left to go home though. Sam encouraged him too, telling him time and time again to just ask her out already. So finally, he did, hoping against hope that it would put the anxious turning in his stomach every time Castiel was near to rest. No such luck. The day he asked her out found them at lunch, making out lazily until Jo breathed quietly, “You’re such a bastard.”

                “What?” Dean broke off the kiss, looking at Jo in confusion and just a bit of anger for breaking the moment. She didn’t say anything, just nodded behind him. He turned to see the quickly retreating back of the boy who had somehow become his closest friend. Cas.

                “Shit.” He muttered. “Hey babe, gotta go. Sorry.” He gave Lisa one last distracted kiss before standing and following Cas. He quickly lost him in the crowd, swearing under his breath as he started searching what seemed like the entire school. Finally, with only minutes left before lunch ended, he found the boy in the library. Huddled in the corner. Sobbing his fucking brains out. Well shit.

                “Hey man.” Dean said, sinking down beside him. Cas jumped, he hadn’t seen Dean approach.

                “Hello Dean.” He said gruffly, avoiding eye contact. They sat in silence for awhile while Cas regained his composure. Finally, Dean spoke up. “What’s up Cas?” He asked quietly.

                Cas laughed bitterly. “Nothing Dean. Just pulled my head out of my ass long enough to remember who I am.”

                “What do you mean?”

                “I mean I’m worthless!” Cas all but shouted, trying to keep his voice down out of respect for the quiet atmosphere of the library. “I’m nothing but a whore. A worthless piece of shit who killed his own mom.” He said quieter. “I-I mean it all fell apart. I wanted to hurt myself. So bad Dean. I had the razor in my hand but then-well. Then I did something worse. So much worse.”

               Dean felt himself growing cold.

                “I did it again Dean.” Cas continued. “I was in the bathroom and then he walked in and I just thought, well, that I could be of some use. That I could be put back in my place and I just did it and I sucked until there was nothing left and-“ Cas broke off, sobbing again.

                “Shit.” Was all Dean could muster, pulling the shaking boy into a tight embrace. Well fuck. And things had been going so good. “Hey Cas. You’re not worthless. Don’t ever fucking think that. I mean, you’re a great guy and you deserve-“

                “So much better.” Cas cut in, that bitter laugh making an appearance. “That’s because you don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done.” Cas said darkly.

                “You’re right.” Dean pulled back, trying to make eye contact. Cas still looked away, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t know you. I don’t know everything you’ve done. But you’re not the only one with a fucked up past. You’re not the only one with regrets. But that doesn’t change what I think, what I know. And I know that you don’t deserve this. You don’t need to beat yourself down.”

                Cas just shook his head tiredly, barely breathing, “I do. I need to pay.” Before standing and collecting his things. Dean didn’t see him for the rest of that day, or the next. And when he returned, it was like Day One all over again. All the progress they had made, down the drain. Cas let the blows all the faceless assholes threw at him strike home. He got on his knees for every brainless prick who looked his way, and he flinched away from any unexpected physical contact like it burned him. Dean felt his heart breaking for his friend, but had no idea what he could do to help.

                Dean didn’t see Cas eat one thing that entire week at school, and the other boy steadily grew paler and thinner. They still worked out, but he was silent the whole time, and they spent less time just chilling and watching movies. Lisa could tell something was up with Dean. He was always distracted, even when they were alone. But like a patient girlfriend, she stayed with him through it. And Dean was grateful, he really was. But sometimes he wished that she would just yell at him. Tell him to get his shit together. Or just dump his ass. Whatever. But more than anything, he wished that he could fix whatever it was between him and Cas. Make things go back to the way they were before everything went to shit.

                That weekend he went to Cas’ house to try and confront him. But Cas wasn’t home. No one was. He went back three more times that weekend, but no gold. Wherever Cas was, he wasn’t answering his phone, and worry ate at Dean the entire time. But there was nothing he could do, right? Just wait and hope for the best.

                Sam did his best to cheer Dean up, but after the third time of barging in to find Dean immersed in abusive self help books, his brother just sighed and sat down beside him. “Need some help with that?”  

                Dean shrugged noncommittally, shoving a book his way. “If you want.” They sat in silence, reading for a bit before Sam broached the topic. “It’s Cas, isn’t it. You think something is going on at his home.”

                “Yeah. No. I don’t know.” Dean gritted out. “I mean, I think something’s up, but Cas won’t talk to me about it. And I want to help but just don’t know how. I’m crap at all this shit anyways. That was always your area of expertise Samantha.”

                Sam knew he was trying to goad Sam into letting it drop. As is, Sam just scowled and continued. “You should tell someone. What about Jody?”

                “The sheriff?” Dean scoffed. “No, I want to help, not have cops digging into Cas’ personal life. Besides, he flat out told me no when I brought it up.” Dean frowned, shutting the book with an angry snap and a sigh. “I just don’t know what went wrong.”

                “You mean why he snapped this week?”

                Dean’s head turned so fast Sam thought he heard his neck crack. “How’d you know?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

                Sam laughed. “C’mon Dean. Don’t play dumb. You hurt his feelings. I mean, you two have practically been dating since you’ve met. You spend all day worrying about him, you won’t shut up about him, and you spend as much time together as you can. Then, out of the blue, he shows up to find you all handsy with your new girlfriend. Did you even think about running it by him before asking Lisa out?”

                “It’s not like that, Sammy.” Dean looked away, blushing. “We’re just friends, that’s all.”

                “Ever think of clueing him in? Cuz the way he looks at you, it’s like he sees straight into your soul or something man. It was kinda creepy at first, but now? Now I think he kinda adores you man. I don’t know, maybe he even-“

                “Don’t say it Sam.”

                “Dean.”

                “I said don’t Sammy!” Dean growled, standing and grabbing his jacket. “I’m going out. I need some air.” And just like that his brother stormed out, leaving Sam to sigh and continue to flip through the books. After all, Cas was his friend too.

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

                Cas left school that day and went home. He sent his father a text, letting him know that he had ditched his last half of the day. That he deserved to be punished. Never one to disappoint, Zachariah showed up not half an hour later, to find his son already naked and gagged. Zachariah smiled cruelly, gesturing for his son to disrobe him and work him to fullness before thrusting into the tight hole of Castiel’s ass. His son screamed behind his gag, barely any sound coming out. Zachariah beat him afterwards for his transgressions, before ordering his son to shower and get dressed. Zachariah made a call to Alastair Payne. After all, his son needed to be taught a lesson and Zachariah simply didn’t have the time at the moment. Alastair agreed to float him a grand for the night with his son. Zachariah shuffled Castiel into the car after they both cleaned up and dropped him off at Alastair’s house before heading off to work.

                Alastair liked Castiel submissive and writhing in pain. He had a whole room decked out for it. Complete with a sex sling, a rack, and many, many toys to put to use. He tied Castiel to the rack, which rotated until the boy’s face was at his crotch. He would thrust into his throat as Castiel gagged around his length, mouth too full so only dribbles of vomit ran down his face and into his nose and eyes. After Alastair came, he would move on to toys, beating Castiel with whatever his hands found first. The boy screamed himself hoarse, but no one heard beyond his soundproof walls. Alastair burned and cut and beat his way through the boy, enjoying every last whimper and shriek he wretched from Castiel’s throat. And then he unstrapped the shaking boy only to shove and tie him into the sling to fuck him so violently that blood ran down both their thighs. It was a good night for Alastair. For Cas, it was nothing short of Hell. But it was what he deserved after all. It was where he belonged. His penance.

                The next morning, Zachariah picked him up again and gave him the day to rest and recover before going to school again. It was like the light was gone. He avoided Dean, avoided food, and took everything thrown his way with numb acceptance. That weekend was difficult. Noting the state of his son, Zachariah made sure he ate a full meal before the cabin. Dick Roman had Castiel to himself that whole night. Zachariah had gotten himself in pretty deep, so Dick took what he estimated to be five grand worth of pleasure out of Castiel that night.

                The man had taken something before making his way there that night. Castiel was exhausted by the end of it, surprised at how often the man had come before discarding him. Lips swollen and bruised, throat scratchy and raw, bruises on his hips and pain throbbing in his ass, and still Cas pressed on. Did everything asked of him. Dick thanked his father before leaving, but Castiel was too exhausted to notice. He fell asleep within minutes. The next morning, Zachariah took him out back. He liked doing this sometimes instead of letting his son just use the shower. Instead, Cas stood shaking and naked in the cool morning air as Zachariah blasted him with freezing water. The pressure stung, leaving his flesh pink and raw. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, hoping to wash his sins and shame away. It didn’t help. His father had a stressful week, and didn’t have a whole lot of energy left for his son. So that day, Zachariah made Castiel do all the work.

                He sucked his father off as he absentmindedly watched television. He rode his father as he lay in the bed. And then his father made him do something he had never done before. “You’re getting to be so beautiful. Just like your mother would be if she was here. If you didn’t take her from me.”

                Castiel nodded. He knew his father hated the sound of his voice when he remembered her. How his low timbre was so different from the sweetly high octave his mother had. Zachariah had pulled out many outfits. All lingerie and tight, short dresses, even some make-up he commanded Castiel to apply. And he obeyed, donning everything that was required of him. His father took picture after picture, ordered his son to assume pose after pose. This was so much worse. The shame ripped through his chest, but there was no pain, no physical contact to take his mind off of it. Castiel was surprised to find himself crying, but his father didn’t care. Just told him to wipe his tears and fix his make-up before he ruined the pictures.

                Zachariah made him give him head again afterwards. Lipstick covered his father’s dick. When he was done, Cas had to lick every smudge clean. Sunday was no better. Zachariah didn’t beat him today, just bound him to the table he had acquired two summers back. Instead of whips or brass knuckles, he pulled out a branding iron and placed it into the fireplace first thing that morning. “Had this made up just for you, son.” He had beamed. There were no words adorning the metal, just a cross.

                “Why father?” Cas tilted his head, looking up to meet Zachariah’s cold eyes. His father replied darkly. “To remind you of how soiled and unclean you are.” They sat in silence, anxiety building until the iron was red-hot. Zachariah pulled it out of the fire and stalked towards his son. “You’re mother used to call you her angel. Do you remember?” His father looking at the glowing metal fondly. “But then you fell. Now, you’re no angel. Not anymore. Now you’re damned!” And with that Zachariah inverted the cross with a flick of his wrist and pressed it into Castiel’s chest, right above his heart. Searing pain exploded, ripped through Castiel in shriek after shriek as the smell of his own burning flesh filled his nostrils. Zachariah withdrew the brand what seemed like an eternity later.

               With no ceremony whatsoever, the brand was dropped into a bucket of water as Zachariah went on to unbind his son from the table, only to turn him over and strap him back in. Castiel sobbed into the cold metal surface, pushing his cheek into it until he was sure there would be a bruise as he struggled uselessly to keep the burning, sensitive flesh on his chest from touching the table. With a rough shove and a snarled, “Lie still, son”, Zachariah finished binding him down.

                “Now!” Zachariah clapped his hands together gleefully, beaming again. “I have another present for you. Lately you’ve been, well distracted. I thought that maybe my discipline was slipping, but it might just be your age. Teenagers are unruly after all. Who knows, maybe it’s your school. No matter, this will remind you who you are. Now, I’ve marked your front, all I need to do is carve it into your back too.” Zachariah kept on smiling as he pulled out some sheets for Castiel to inspect. They were wings, or the tattered remains of them. Nothing was left but the bone structure, fractured and bent at harsh angles that suggested the joints were dislocated. A few tattered feathers clung on to whatever diseased flesh was left. Castiel swallowed, hard. He remembered seeing them before. When he was young, his mother had a bible she loved. It was full of graphic pictures depicting all that was good and bad in the stories told in the scriptures.

                There was one picture he never forgot. It showed an angel, Lucifer, falling with his host of followers. On the next page, it showed them in hell, burning and screaming monsters with their once glorious wings broken and shredded and consumed in fire. It used to give him nightmares, and he would crawl into his parent’s bed for comfort. It was an image he would never forget.

                “I see you remember, Castiel. Can’t quite recall how many times you came crying and sniveling to us because of those pictures. But now you’re the monster, Castiel. And a monster should look the part.” The sheets were carefully laid on his back and adjusted until his father approved. Wetting the paper, Zachariah waited a second before peeling them back. Castiel craned his head until he could see his shoulder. The black lines remained behind, an outline for his father to follow. The wings were tucked in but still enormous, covering the entirety of his back, ass, and all the way down to just inches above the back of his knees.

                Zachariah pulled on some gloves and got everything set up. Open cups of black ink and clean towels covered the table. The device in his father’s hand vibrated when turned on. Zachariah talked the whole time he worked, reminded Cas of how far he had fallen, of all his transgressions. How he was nothing. How he deserved punishment. The floor was soon littered with blood and ink soaked towels. Once finished, Zachariah got a wet cloth to wipe Castiel clean. It was late by then, dusk already settling.

                His father untied Castiel and led him to the mirrors he had carefully arranged for Castiel to see every angle of his back. Cas sat there and stared, sobbing as his father packed their things. His skin was red and sore, blood still seeping up and trickling down. The wings were beautiful in their deranged monstrosity. Castiel felt hideous, cold and broken as the wings on his back. Every movement pulled uncomfortably on the skin and sent throbs of itching pain through him. It clicked then, more than ever before in his life. Everything he had done, there was no way heaven would want him now. He was wicked, just as the beasts in the pit. He would never see him mother again in the next life. Castiel had no doubt that his soul was hell-bound. In all his life, Castiel didn’t think he had ever felt more alone.

                His father came back in to rub some ointment on the tattoo and cover it in plastic wrap to keep the blood from ruining the sweats he had Castiel don. The way home consisted of a lecture on how Castiel was to care for the tattoo. After all, he wouldn’t want all the hard work his father had put into it to be a waste. Zachariah cheerfully told him to stay hydrated this week. He didn’t want to risk disturbing the setting ink, so his son would be doing nothing more that sucking him off for the week. And dry mouths were not acceptable for blow jobs. Castiel nodded numbly, head leaning against the cool glass and hot tears silently falling. He didn’t feel real anymore, like everything was a dream. The darkness flashing by outside seemed to surround him. Consume him completely. There was no one and nothing there. Just Castiel, screaming all alone inside his head and he felt the lick of invisible flames and the cold weight of water pressing in, invading and drowning.          

                Not even caring that his father was there, Castiel dug into his bag until he found the razor. Bundling up some towels to catch the blood, he looked emotionlessly at his arms as he made two neat cuts on each wrist. They weren’t deep enough to bleed for long, but gave him that sharp jolt of pain to numb everything else. His father watched him impassively, frowning but saying nothing. Wordlessly, Castiel cleaned and bandaged the wounds before leaning back and letting the darkness consume him. He was just so tired. So, so tired.


	10. Chapter 10

                Dean had definitely not run away from his brother, he just needed to think. I mean, sure when he had first met the kid he might have been a bit overwhelmed. But come on, who wouldn’t be with those blue eyes staring at you. Cas was beautiful, there was no other way Dean could describe that sex hair and pale, acne-free complexion with the most innocent, endless eyes staring their way into you. But they were just friends. I mean, the kid had sucked off some other assholes the first day they met. He was, well Dean wasn’t sure. But he was pretty sure boyfriend material was not exactly a way Cas would describe himself. Besides, if they were together, then why did Dean still find him every now and then fleeing the bathroom with spit-swollen lips followed by a very satisfied nameless prick.

                Besides, Dean may have been with a few guys, but he still considered himself a ladies man. And Lisa was the perfect girl for someone like Dean to go for, right? Besides, they spent enough time flirting that surely Cas had gotten the hint. Dean tried calling again, glad that he had snuck himself a text that first night Castiel came over so he would have his number, even if it was doing him no good if his friend couldn’t even answer his damn phone. Straight to voicemail. Well fuck.

                “Where the hell are you Cas?” Dean sighed, staring at the display on his phone before shoving it in his pocket and going back inside. He needed a drink, school tomorrow be damned. And if Ellen and Bobby quirked their eyebrows and the glass of jack he poured himself, then at least they let him drink in peace. He avoided Sam the rest of the night, opting to fall asleep on the couch rather than face the brother who may or may not still be in his room. When Dean became such a girl, he didn’t know. All he wanted was for the room to stop spinning and the ache in his chest to subside.

                Dean woke early for school the next day, shuffling Sam into the car a good 20 minutes before normal. They flew to Castiel’s house at a high enough speed to get Sam glaring at him for being reckless. Dean didn’t care, just pushed further down on the gas until they reached their destination. Dean slammed the car into park and jerked the keys out of the ignition before sprinting towards the door. He only had to knock once before it was answered. An older man stood in front of him. He was clearly Castiel’s father if the picture on the wall were anything to go off of. But this man was older, much more worn and closed off from the happy father in the portrait. His hair was thinning and grey, wrinkles starting to form and weight adorning his frame that suggested not only age but good food. His eyes were cold, nothing like his sons.

                “Can I help you?” The man asked, smiling cockily. Dean instantly decided he didn’t like him. Even if he didn’t know about what he was doing to Cas, he would hate this man.

                “Is Cas here?” Dean said instead of the many, many things he wanted to yell at him.

                “Cas?” The man frowned before lighting up. “Oh! You mean Castiel. Yes, he’s upstairs getting dressed. Do come in.” The man opened the door wider. Dean didn’t like the way he looked at him, like a shark eyeing fresh meat. Dean refused to be intimidated, meeting the gaze steadily as he walked inside.

                “I don’t think I got your name.”

                “That’s because I didn’t give it.” Dean grit out angrily, eyes trained on the ceiling, ears straining for any sound of his friend.

                “Let’s try this again. Perhaps with some manners for your elder this time.” The man frowned, tone going from light and arrogant to deadly serious. “I’m Zachariah Novak.”

                “Dean.” He ground his teeth, everything about Zachariah repulsing him.

                “You know, most people show respect in another’s home.” The man glared. “What’s your last name?” He snapped.

                “Winchester.” Dean reluctantly informed him.

                “Well then, Dean Winchester.” Zachariah suddenly beamed again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. Dean eyed it warily before reaching forward to shake. Zachariah had cold, dry hands. They were too soft for Dean’s liking, but there was still strength in the grip. A sudden movement from the corner of his eyes caught his attention. Dean turned to see Cas standing frozen on the stairs, staring at them in shock.

                “Ah, Castiel!” Zachariah said, noticing his son as he dropped his hand. “You didn’t tell me about your friend here.” He said lightly, but Dean could feel the tense undercurrent to his words. Castiel didn’t answer, just stared with wide eyes. “Perhaps we should invite him over for dinner sometime!” Zachariah continued. “After all, it’s been years since Castiel here had a friend over.”

                “No, that’s alright-“ Cas seemed to regain his voice, swiftly descending the rest of the stairs.

                “Now, Castiel.” Zachariah playfully admonished, still smiling sickly. “Don’t be rude. After all, Dean here is our guest. And we don’t want to insult our guest, do we?”

                “No father.” Castiel hung his head.         

                “Great!” Zachariah beamed. “Hope you don’t have plans for tonight. Castiel and I here had chicken noodle soup scheduled for dinner. It would be my pleasure if you would join us.”

                Dean looked to Cas for what to do, but his friend kept his eyes trained on the ground. Anger briefly flared. As much as Dean hated having to spend any amount of time in Zachariah’s presence, he wasn’t going to leave Castiel alone. “Sound great.” Dean finally answered, staring up defiantly at Zachariah.

                “Good.” Zachariah smiled, but his eyes remained cold. “See you at seven then. You boys had better be going before you’re late to school.”

                Castiel picked up his bag and followed as Dean left without a word.

                “Son.” Zachariah called out and Castiel instantly stopped and turned, still not meeting his father’s eyes. “No hug goodbye?” He held his arms out, and Dean would swear he was smirking. Castiel dutifully walked up and embraced his father quickly. Zachariah stared at Dean as he gave his son a kiss on the top of his head. It made Dean’s stomach turn. “Have a good day at school.” Zachariah called cheerfully as they finally escaped. As soon as the door was closed, Zachariah frowned. Dean Winchester, huh? He would have to get some people to do a bit of research into him before dinner that night.

                Sam had already moved to the backseat by the time they got to the car. None of them said anything, just got in and drove off. “Hey Cas.” Sam said hesitantly after they were a few blocks into their trip.

                “Hello Sam.” Cas replied, not a hint of emotion in his tone or face.

                “How was your weekend?” Dean ground out, trying for casual interest. Cas shrugged. Dean frowned, continuing. “What’s been up with you this week man? I mean, things were great. Why’d they just fall apart like that?”

                Castiel shrugged again, avoiding eye contact. He seemed to draw even more into himself. Dean sighed. “You hurting yourself again?”

                The other boy pushed his sleeves up, giving both brothers a clear view of the blood soaked bandages. “Shit.” Sam breathed, leaning forward and placing a hand on Castiel’s shoulder while giving him a look of pure pity that Castiel didn’t see.

                “Shit.” Dean said a bit firmer, slamming his hand into the wheel a few times before yelling. “Shit! Why man? Why did you do that? Why…why now? Two weeks, Cas. Two weeks where you didn’t hurt yourself once, and you just go and flush it down the drain.” Castiel pushed his sleeves back down, still silent.

                “Answer me man!”

                “Dean-“ Sam started.

                “No!” Dean glared at his brother through the rearview mirror. “No, this is between me and Cas. I just want an explanation.”

                “What can I say Dean?” his friend finally spoke. “What could I possibly say that could make you understand. What excuse could I give that would appease you.” And now he was glaring, but it was cold and distant, with no real fury or really anything behind those eyes. They were dead eyes, Dean thought, feeling chills go through him. All the life that he had seen blooming in his friend was gone. There was nothing of the Castiel Dean had come to know left.

                “How about we start with the truth.” Dean replied, quieter than before.

                Castiel looked forward again, no emotion as he flatly answered them, like he was stating facts for a test or something. “I’m a monster. I, I used to be my mother’s little angel. But then I fell, everything and everyone I touch I destroy. I damn. It took me awhile to realize it, but now I know. And I’ve accepted it. I’ve accepted that I will serve my life here on earth until my time expires, and then I will descend to the pits of hell for my true penance to begin.”

                Dean didn’t answer for a long time, working the words over in his mind. “Cas, man you shouldn’t think like that. I told you, what happened when you were a kid was an accident. There was nothing you could do. Beating yourself up like this, it’s killing you. You’re not a monster. Hell, you’re closer to angel than most of the dickwads I know. You have to move on. I’m sure your mom wouldn’t want you thinking like this either. If she was anything like my mom was, then I know that she’s forgiven you a long time ago. And you should do the same.”

                Cas shook his head, staring at his sleeves. “I.” His voice finally cracked. “I don’t know how to. I don’t even know where to begin.”

                Sam leaned forward. “Let’s just take things one day at a time. We’re here for you.”

                Dean voiced agreement, and Cas just nodding and continued staring into his lap. That day, time seemed to pass like syrup in an hourglass. Cas ate with them, and Dean spent so much time trying to pull his friend back out of his shell that he all but forgot about Lisa sitting next to him. After school, Cas went straight home to prepare dinner. Dean dropped Sam off at home before heading back out. There was something he had to do.

                He went to Lisa’s house. Her parents weren’t home yet, and she suggestively pulled him towards her bedroom. “Lisa, wait.” Dean frowned, stopping in the hallway. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

                “You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” She said, no real sadness or anger behind her words.

                “I’m sorry, it’s just-“

                “No need.” She held up her hands, smiling softly. “It’s Cas, isn’t it. I guess I knew I would never really be able to compete with him. But hey, we tried and it was fun while it lasted.”

                “What? No, that isn’t-“ Dean felt his cheeks heating.

                Lisa laughed, but not cruelly. “Don’t worry Dean. I’m not judging you. It’s obvious the way you guys look at each other. There was no way I would ever be able to break you guys apart.” _How wrong she was_ , Dean thought sadly.

                “So, friends then?” Dean finally said. “Friends.” She smiled, agreeing before showing Dean to the door and giving him a quick hug on his way out. Dean went home to shower and kill time before he couldn’t take it anymore and left around 6:30. The drive wasn’t long, but by the time he pulled up to see two cars in the driveway his dread had built to near breaking point. Frowning, Dean stared at the second car. He wasn’t expecting anyone more than Cas and his father being here.

                Zachariah answered the door with that sickly sweet smile, letting him in and taking his coat. Dinner wouldn’t be ready for another few minutes. He was led into the living room, where another boy from school and a man who could only be his dad were already seated. Castiel was just visible through the kitchen door, tending to the pot that sent delicious smells wafting through the house.

                “Now.” Zachariah’s smile widened. “I’m sure you already know Adam here.” Adam glared up at Dean before assuming a more polite expression at a glance from his father. The man stood, approaching him. “Dean, right?”

                “Yes sir.” Dean answered, shaking hands. “Dean Winchester.”

                “Michael Milligan.” He answered, smiling friendly. Dean couldn’t place it, he seemed like a good enough guy. But something about him didn’t click right with Dean. Shrugging the feeling off, Dean allowed himself to be ushered to the couch and accepted the glass of water Zachariah offered him. They engaged in polite, meaningless conversation until Cas came in and without even looking at Dean informed them that dinner was ready.


	11. Chapter 11

                When Zachariah got home that day, he pulled Cas aside to have a talk before their guests arrived. “Now son.” Zachariah began. “You’ve been slipping, haven’t you.” Castiel didn’t reply, just hung his head in shame. “We talked about this. You wouldn’t want him finding out would you? You wouldn’t want everyone finding out.”

                “No Father.” Castiel answered, looking up pleading. “It was only at first, I swear. He threw me off, I wasn’t sure how to react. But I know now. Dean won’t find anything out Father, I promise.”

                “He already suspects though.” His son nodded in answer. “Well then, let’s just ease his suspicions tonight. You will play the role of a perfect son. We can’t have any slips during dinner. Also, Michael and Adam will be joining us. His wife is out of town for the week so I invited them over as well. Don’t give anything away Castiel. This is very important, do you understand?”

                “Yes Father.” He answered.

                “Good.” Zachariah beamed. “Now, before you start on dinner, there’s one other small matter to see to.” He unzipped his pants, and that was all Castiel needed to drop obediently before him.

                Castiel heard Michael and Adam arrive, and only minutes later came Dean. His hands shook slightly, nerves racing. He took his time calming himself, determined to give nothing away. Dinner went smoothly for the most part. Everyone was polite, and if they all felt the tense atmosphere no one gave it away. As everyone was finishing their food the topic of school finally came up.

                “How’s school, Dean?” Zachariah asked.

                “It’s going good I guess.” Dean shrugged, finding more interest in his soup than the man in front of him. “What about you Adam?” Zachariah moved on.

                “It’s going well sir.”

                “Good!” Zachariah smiled. “Castiel?”

                “It’s going well Father.”

                Adam snickered, drawing all their attention to him. Dean frowned. “Something to say, son?” Michael asked.

                “No sir, it’s just I found that funny is all.”

                “Why is that?” Zachariah was no longer smiling, attention sharp and focused.

                “Well, it’s because he’s a cocksucker!” Adam exclaimed, hatred clear as he gestured to Cas, who kept his gaze steadfast on his food as color bloomed on his cheeks. “He sucks guys off between classes. School cumdumpster should be his new name. I                mean, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen him leave the bathroom wiping cum off his face. Surprised he still has any pants with their knees intact.”

                “Adam.” Michael warned and his son fell silent. Cas sat there, shame burning through him. He couldn’t look up, hands shaking where he clenched them in his lap. He supposed it was only a matter of time before his father found out. The worst part was Dean, who didn’t say anything. What could he say, he knew it was true, there was no defending it. Still, from where he sat he was sure he could feel the fury emanating from his friend.

                “Is that true son?” Zachariah asked coldly, disgust evident.

                “Yes Father.” Cas finally looked up, meeting only his father’s eyes.

                “You just ruin everything, don’t you?” Cas hung his head again, accepting his father’s verbal abuse. “We can’t even have a pleasant dinner without your actions ruining it, can we?”

                “I’m sorry Father.” Castiel felt the tears burning, but refused to let them fall.

                “You destroy everything you touch!” And with that, Zachariah’s fury bubbled over and he stood and stuck Castiel across the cheek. Hard. Cas was stunned. His father never lost control like this. He never hurt his face, and he certainly didn’t strike him in front of company. He tasted blood in his mouth from where his teeth had cut into the soft side of his cheek, and he knew there would be a bruise there in the morning.

                “Hey!” Dean finally spoke, standing.

                “And you!” Zachariah snarling, rounding on him. “You knew about this?”

                “Yes.” Dean grit out, glaring at him.

                “Ha. I bet you do. Is that what this is? You just like fucking that pretty little mouth of his, don’t you?” There was no warmth in Zachariah’s tone, malice seeping through his every feature. Adam had the decency to look appalled at the events brought on by his words. Michael shifted in his seat, glancing uncomfortably at his son.

                “What? No, I would never-“ Dean blanched, looking quickly to Cas before continuing. “It’s not like that.” He finished firmly.

                The sting in Castiel’s cheek paled in comparison to the blow Dean’s words delivered to his chest. _I would never,_ Dean had said. He didn’t want Cas. That first time, being turned down had hurt. But Castiel had thought that they had grown closer, had held selfishly onto that hope that maybe someday…But now that hope was gone, leaving him empty inside.

                “I’m sure.” Zachariah sneered, before leaving the dining room to dig out some beer from the fridge. “Entertain our guests for me, Castiel.” He called without turning. Adam was pale. Dean was all but shaking in fury. Cas sat there numbly, only now realizing that the tears had begun to fall without his permission. Michael stood, professionally detached as he came over to clean away the blood trickling out of the corner of Castiel’s mouth and examine the injury.

                “Is this the first time he hit you?” Dean suddenly rounded, angry.

                “Yes.” Castiel lied easily, feeling his emotions shutting down. He felt nothing, cared to feel nothing as he sat there and let Michael apply his ministrations.

                “Bullshit.” Dean growled. Castiel looked up, meeting everyone’s eyes. “I apologize for my father’s outburst and my shameful behavior.”

                “You don’t need to apologize-“ Dean started.

                “We have some frozen yogurt in the freezer if everyone has finished their dinner.” Castiel stood numbly, letting Michael’s hands trail off as he headed for the kitchen. Zachariah came back in soon after, handing an extra beer to Michael before scoffing, “Kids, right?”

                Michael looked uncomfortable, but nodded in agreement. “Well, I suppose it was only to be suspected. Not only is my son a killer, but a whore to boot.” Zachariah pulled a long drag from his beer. Dean fumed, crossing the room and decking Zachariah before he even realized what he was doing. “You son of a bitch.” Dean growled as Zachariah gaped up at his in shock. “He’s your son!” Dean yelled. “He deserves so much better. If you bothered to get to know him, you would know he’s a great kid! Not a killer. Not a whore. He has problems, and you’re supposed to help him. You should protect him! Not beat him. Not fuck with his head. It’s-“ Dean chuckled darkly. “You’re a shit dad, you know that?”

                “Get out of my house.” Zachariah seethed. “Get out!” He shouted, pointing at the door.

                “Not without Cas.” Dean stood his ground.

                “Fine!” Zachariah spat. “Take the whore with you. Just leave. Now!”

                “Gladly.” Dean sneering, heading towards the kitchen. He only faltered upon seeing Cas standing there, staring blankly at the frozen yogurt in front of him as he shook slightly. Dean felt his heart break just a little as he gently touched the boy’s shoulder. “C’mon Cas. Let’s get out of here.”

                Numbly, Cas allowed himself to be led out of the house and to the car. Dean drove straight to Jody’s house, knowing she would be at home now and not wanting to bring his friend straight into a station full of cops. “Hey Cas.” Dean shook his friend, who finally looked up to take in his surroundings. “Where are we?” He asked, confusion tilting his head to that perfect angle that Dean hadn’t even realized he loved.

                “Remember the sheriff I told you about? Jody Mills? This is her house.”

                “Oh.” Castiel’s brow wrinkled even further. “Why are we here?”

                “Because that bastard hurt you Cas. And I can’t just sit by any longer. Should have brought you here a long time ago.”

                “But-“ Castiel tried.

                “No buts man. You’re going in there if I have to drag you in myself.”

                “Okay.” Cas said tiredly, opening the door and slowly getting out. Dean met him on the passenger side, and together they walked up the path. Jody answered minutes after the first knock. She was an attractive woman somewhere in her thirties with short dark hair and kind eyes. “Dean!” She exclaimed. “Wasn’t expecting you here. What brings you by?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, clearly suspecting Dean had gotten himself in trouble.

                “Hey Jody.” Dean smiled warmly. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for me. Jody, this is my friend Cas. Cas, Jody.”

                “Nice to meet you Cas.” Jody smiled. Cas just nodded, eyes never leaving the ground. Her smile faded a little. “So, again, what brings you by?”

                “It’s his dad.” Dean started, eyes skirting to his friend. “He hit him tonight. In front of me and two other witnesses.”

                “What?” Jody exclaimed, leaning forward to tilt Castiel’s chin up so his face was bathed in porch light. She took one look at the bruise forming on his cheek, expression hardening briefly before she stepping aside. “Come on in boys.”

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

                Jody had called over a few of the other cops she worked with to help take statements. They stopped by the Novak’s house on the way to get Zachariah and the Milligan’s statements as well. Pictures were taken of Castiel’s face to document the bruise. Every time they asked him if this was the first time his father had stuck him, Cas adamantly replied that it was. Dean tried to fight him on this, but given that Castiel denied past abuse and refused to let himself be examined, the interrogation ended quite soon. Jody pulled Dean to the side before the boys left.

                “This is a bad one.”

                “Tell me about it.” Dean glowered.

                “His father, Zachariah, he’s pretty high up there.”

                “What do you mean?” Dean reined his anger in, focusing on Jody.

                “I mean that he is pretty much a pillar of the community. An otherwise upstanding citizen with lots of connections. That, coupled with this being his first offense, well there isn’t really much we can do here. I’m sorry Dean.”

                Dean visibly deflated. “Yeah. Me too.”

                “Look after him kiddo.” Jody ruffled his hair and kissed the top of his head. After all, they were practically family. Jody had helped a lot after his dad died, and she had always been close with Bobby and Ellen.

                “Don’t worry, I will.” Dean left with Cas in tow. He still wasn’t talking a whole lot, but had thankfully stopped shaking long ago.

                “Hey man.” Dean tried for cheerful. “I don’t really want to go home yet. How’s a movie sound?”

                “A movie?” Cas turned to him.

                “Yeah.” Dean chuckled nervously. “I mean, it’s been a pretty shitty night so far. I thought some popcorn and mindless action flick might help make today end on a better note. God knows I need the distraction.”

                “Alright.” Cas replied seriously, facing front once more.

                “Great!” Dean smiled. “It’s a date.”

                Cas visibly tensed beside him. “A…date?”

                “Sure, why not?” Dean was cheerful, too cheerful. In truth, he was a wreck, emotions all over the place. But a quiet movie sounded good right now, and by god it was well past time for Cas to have some normal, teenage happiness in his life.

                “What about Lisa?” Cas asked coldly.

                “Out of the picture.” Dean replied firmly. “I broke up with her early today. She’s great and all, but we weren’t working out.”

                Cas snorted. “Could have fooled me.” He said quietly. Dean ignored him as they started the drive to the theater. They drove in silence, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. Somehow, it never was with them. When they got out and made their way to the ticket counter, Dean reached out to take Cas’ hand. He faltered in his steps for a moment before tentatively twining their fingers together. Dean smiled and tightened his grip. Dean ignored his protests and insisted on paying for their tickets, drinks, and popcorn. He would have gotten candy too, but Cas had frowned in disdain at the price and even Dean felt his wallet screaming at him to stop. The movie didn’t matter, just some mindless flic with explosions and car chases. The theater was practically empty given it was pretty late on a school night. Still, Dean led them to the back for a little more privacy. They settled into their seats, keeping the armrest between them up. Dean threw his hand casually around Cas’ shoulder, and after a few minutes of shifting to the most comfortable position, they settled in and relaxed.

                They snacked on the popcorn as the previews began. Their hands bumped a few times given they were sharing a bucket. Each time this happened, Cas would withdraw his hand quickly. Dean took that as an invitation to grab up a few of the more appetizing butter-coated pieces and bring them to Cas’ lips for the boy to hesitantly take into his mouth. Dean grinned, gazing fondly at the boy as the tension of the night slowly pooled out of them both.

                It was only a few minutes into the movie when all the emotions from the night hit Castiel like a freight train. One tear fell, and then two, and before he knew it his face was in his hands and he was shaking under Dean’s arm. Dean pulled him in closer and brought his other hand up to try and brush the tears away as he whispered comfort and peppered kisses into that sexy mess of dark-tousled hair.

                “It’s okay. Just let it out.”

                “Why are you so kind to me Dean?” Cas sniffled, looking up. “Why do you care?”

                “I don’t know.” Dean answered honestly. “But I think it has something to do with the fact that I can’t bear to see you in so much pain. And maybe, just maybe, I might be falling for you man.”

                “Don’t say that.” Cas breathed, panic flaring. “You don’t know me.”

                “That’s what dating is for.” Dean smirked. “And I have nothing but time.”

                “Dating, yes.” Cas smiled, small but there. “I like it. It’s nice.”

                “Wait.” Dean pulled back a bit. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been on a date before!”

                “It’s my first.” He smiled sadly.

                “But, at school.”

                “I was just servicing their needs. Nothing more. Never more.” Castiel frowned, momentarily lost in thought.

                “Not anymore. Not if I can help it.” Dean growled, resting his head on his hair and breathing the fresh scent in, chasing away the grease and grime of the theater.

                “Not anymore. Especially now that my father knows. He’ll put a stop to it for sure.” Cas sighed deeply.

                “No talk about him tonight Cas. Just you and me. Everything else can wait for the morning.”

                “Alright.” Cas agreed, and the two didn’t talk for the rest of the movie. Dean moved his free hand to the boys lap and let their hands intertwine. Cas kept helping himself to the popcorn, feeding Dean pieces whenever he nudged him. They shared the coke too, the other sitting forgotten on the other side. After the movie, they both stopped in the bathroom before leaving. Dean went straight to the urinals, but Cas opted for a stall. Dean frowned, but didn’t say anything. After all, he guess he couldn’t blame him. After all, Dean wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep his eyes to himself either.

                It was nearly midnight by the time they made it back to Dean’s house. Jody had called Ellen and told her about what happened. No one said anything, but everyone had sat up until they got home. Hugs were dealt out all around, and everyone made sure Cas knew he was welcome there anytime. That he was family too, and loved by them. Cas felt tears threatening again, but they were happy tears this time. He choked out thanks, and returned each embrace fiercely. He had a home here. Not a house, not a place where he learned his place or paid his penance, but an actual home.

                They went to bed soon after. The air mattress was set up for him, but Dean pulled him into his bed and threw the covers over them. “Don’t worry.” Dean smiled. “We won’t do anything you don’t want.”

                “Hold me.” Is all Cas said, and Dean did, pulling him in tightly. Dean gave him one soft, chaste kiss on the lips, the gentlest kiss he had ever given, before the two settled in to sleep.

                Word about what happened had already spread through the school like wildfire. Cas could feel the stares and whispers like flames licking the back of his neck. His face burned, but Dean was there to grab his hand and ground him. Luckily, thanks to his newfound friends, no one gave him any trouble. The teachers all threw glances of pity his way, but luckily no one confronted him.

                Adam stopped by at lunch, ignoring the icy glares pinning him down. “I’m here to talk to him.” He said firmly, nodding towards Castiel.

                “Like hell you are.” Dean snarled. Cas placed a placating hand on his arm. “It’s okay Dean.” He said softly.

                “Anything you want to say to him, you can say to us.” Jo glowered, leaving no room for argument.

                “Fine.” Adam snapped. “Look, I’m not your friend, and I’m not here to become one. I’m here because I was a dick-“

                “Damn right you were.” Dean interrupted.

                “Anyways.” Adam continued, annoyed. “I just wanted to apologize. It was a low blow man. I never should have said those things. I didn’t know about what was going on at home.”

                “Nothing is going on.” Cas cut in to fast, tight-lipped with only a hint of panic in his eyes.

                “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.” Adam snorted. “Me and my dad don’t really get along. I blamed you because of how much time he spends with your family, but I shouldn’t have done that. My problem is with my old man, not you. But I took my anger out on you, and I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I would take it back if I could.”

                “Doesn’t matter. Damage is done sunshine, no going back now.” Dean smiled coldly, fists clenching.

                “Dean.” Cas moved his hand to his shoulder, calming him. “It’s okay. And Adam.” He turned to the other boy. “You hurt me, yes. And you made my father angry, and he hurt me. But you only spoke the truth. It was my actions that caused this, not your words. I hold no grudge against you.” Dean gaped at Cas, shocked at how easily he shouldered the blame that should belong to the skinny slimeball in front of them.

                Adam smiled. “Well, now I really feel like a dick. You ever need anything, I’m here. Way I see it, I still owe you. Anyways, later.” He gave half a wave before walking off. Dean still gaped at Cas, but it had softened into something more of admiration. How he ever caught this sweet angel’s eye will always be a mystery to him, but Dean is hella glad that he did.

                “You’re amazing. You know that, right Cas?” Dean said, leaning forward for a brief kiss. The table erupted into catcalls, groans emitting from Sam and a muttered, “I’m so gonna need to bleach my brain now.”

                True to his word, Adam managed to get the whole baseball team that he was captain of behind his back. Anyone tried to hurt or fuck with Castiel, and they would have an entire team armed with baseball bats to deal with.

                School ended for the day, and they were just leaving when a familiar car pulled up. Dean felt Cas stiffen beside him before looking up and feeling himself tense as well. Zachariah shut off his car and got out. “Son.” He nodded somberly.

                “Father.” Castiel replied, eyes downward.

                “The fuck are you doing here?” Dean spat. Zachariah shot an irritated glance his way before visibly softening his gaze and returning his attention to his son. “I’m here to apologize.” He said softly, meekly Dean would have thought if he didn’t know the bastard. “Things got out of hand last night. I regret to say I let my temper get the best of me. The news, well I just wasn’t expecting it. I’ve had time to calm down and think it over. I’ve confessed my sins to the Lord and am here to ask for your forgiveness as well. I’m here to set things right. I’m here to take you home, son.”

                “Like hell you are.” Dean tightened his grip, but Cas pulled away. “It’s alright Dean.” He said quietly before looking up at his father. “I forgive you.”

                “Great!” Zachariah beamed. “How does ice cream sound, son? You can even bring your friend.” Despite Dean’s misgivings, they agreed to meet at a local dinner that had the best Ice Cream Sundays in the state. Zachariah was amiable, playing the role of a loving and apologetic father perfectly. Castiel slid smoothly into the role of devout son. It was like before, like when mom was still alive. And even though Cas knew it was all an act, he still held out hope that it was true. That his father still loved him and he would truly be going back to a home. Dean didn’t want him to go, but Cas assured him it would be alright. Driving home that night, worry ate at Dean like a virus. But Cas had said everything was okay, and it was the least Dean could do to trust him. They had a few days left before Friday. Zachariah had agreed to let Cas spend weeknights with Dean from now one, but weekends were still for their family. Things were looking up, and the light had returned to Cas’ eyes. Despite his worry, Dean felt better than he had in a long time. Hell, if he was being honest, Dean would admit that he was happy. And he owed it all to a blue-eyed angel who had innocently kissed him goodbye with the sweet taste of ice cream still on his lips. And Dean would be damned if he would let anyone or anything take his angel from him again.

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

                That night was actually quite peaceful for Cas. With the sudden spotlight on their family, Zachariah had to be careful. He had his son blow him, but other than that avoided him for the rest of the night. School was marvelous. Castiel resumed his transcription of the Bible surrounded by the accepting atmosphere of friendship. Dean could barely keep his mouth to himself. Castiel pursued these kisses like a drowning man, basking in the warm intimacy of the act, so much different than what he had grown up with. Dean joked about him being his first kiss as well.

                “Sorry Dean.” Cas smiled. “But someone beat you to that a long time ago.”

                “What?” Dean exclaimed, mock appalled. “Spill then. Who was your first.”

                “Balthazar Roche. Everyone called him Sebastian though, that’s his middle name. We were best friends growing up. He always loved playing the villains. We were running around the playground, when he convinced me it would be a good idea to play batman. Which meant, of course, that I would play Batman and he would be the beautiful Poison Ivy, seducing me with a kiss. We played house a few times too, Anna being our baby and Gabriel stepping in as the cool uncle. Looking back, I think that he was just looking for excuses to kiss me. I liked it too though. Later on, after I realized I was gay, I understood our attraction a lot better. He moved back to England a year after my mother died. I really shut down after that, didn’t go out much, didn’t make any new friends. Until now.” Cas smiled and squeezed Dean’s hand.

                That whole week was quiet for Castiel. Things definitely weren’t good at home, his father barely spoke to him unless it was to command sexual gratification. School only got better and better, and Cas found himself breaking out more and more. They went swimming on Thursday, enjoying some of the last few days of warmth. The girls wore bikinis of varying stages of indecency, and the boys all took their shirts off. Cas kept on a black, long sleeve under armor shirt to go with his blue swimming trunks that matched his eyes. “C’mon man. Loosen up. Besides, I bet Dean is dying to see what you got underneath that shirt. Pants too, I bet.” Charlie had joked. Both boys flushed, but Dean told her to knock it off and leave Cas alone.

                Afterwards, Dean and Cas separated from the others and went to the tree house for a lazy make out session. Things quickly got heated, and before long Cas was pressed into the floor with Dean sprawled heavily on top of him. With a shock, Castiel realized that Dean had a boner. Not only that, but Cas had one as well. It had been a long time since he grew hard during sex, usually keeping his arousal limited to the shower. It felt good though, and Cas shamelessly rutted up against Dean, moaning into his mouth. Dean responded in kind, pressing down in deliciously smooth slides, the friction of their shorts only adding to their pleasure. It wasn’t enough though, and Dean began stroking his hands down until they rested on Castiel’s hips, fingertips just brushing skin under his shirt.

                Cas froze instantly, fear quickly softening his flesh. Dean stopped too, pulling back sharply. “Something wrong?”

                “Yes. I mean, I’m sorry Dean. It’s just, do you think we could leave the cloths on?”

                Dean stared at him for a long searching moment before relenting. “Whatever you want Cas. Do you want to go back to, you know.” Dean smiled and waggled his eyebrows. Castiel returned a smaller, sadder smile. “No. That was very pleasant, but it’s getting late. We should go home.”

                Dean groaned burying his head into Cas’ neck. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He muttered before standing, pulling his friend up with him. They held hands the whole way back, stopping now and then for a quick kiss. Dean gripped his bony frame, skinny but strong, once again putting on muscle now that their workout sessions were back in swing.

                Friday was bittersweet. It would only be a few days, but neither wanted to spend the weekend apart. On top of that, it would be the first weekend to the cabin since the dinner incident, and Cas wasn’t fooling himself into thinking he would get off without some sort of punishment. His fears were realized on the long drive there.

                “Well son, you just had to go and fuck it up. We had everything scheduled perfectly, but selfish as you are, you had to go and ruin it. So, from now on, Fridays will be your day of penance. Saturdays you will service the needs of this family. After all, we need the money to keep your expensive ass provided for.” That was a lie of course. Zachariah made plenty at his job, he just like the extra thousands lying around for his gambling addictions. “Sundays you will rest and recover. You will eat three, well-balanced meals. Get plenty of sleep and go for a long run to loosen everything up. Can’t have you limping or walking awkwardly come Monday. This is a real inconvenience, Castiel. I’m disappointed in you.”

                “I know Father.” He answered quietly. That night, Zachariah burned over the scar on his chest with the branding iron first thing. He beat his torso mercilessly, pulling out the whip far earlier than normal to avoid bruised knuckles. It wasn’t long before he stopped, carefully measuring how much damage he could get away with. After that, he threw some water on the stove to boil before filling the tub with cold water and dumping in bag after bag of ice. Castiel sat in the freezing water until his lips began to blue. He was then dragged out and shoved down as Zachariah dumped the steaming water onto his lap. Castiel was still screaming when he was thrown back into the tub. This was repeated three times. The water was hot, but not hot enough to leave lingering burns. They would be gone come Monday. He was then strapped face-down onto the table. Zachariah shoved a funnel into his asshole, pouring the rest of the water in. It felt so much hotter inside him, and Castiel shrieked until only choked breaths came out.

                Zachariah threw him into the night, naked and shivering, to sleep in the empty woods until morning. Castiel woke the next day to a car pulling up, followed by more mere minutes later. Lilith was there. It had been awhile since Cas had seen her, though he knew she sent many customers his father’s way for an expensive night with his son.

                Zachariah called Cas in to shower, snickering as all newcomers leered at his naked boy. Once Cas was clean, Zachariah brought him to the living room, the most spacious room in the cabin. All the furniture had been moved, leaving only the coffee table behind. Dick Roman, Michael Milligan, Alastair Payne, Azazel and Lilith Daemon (it’s no wonder they turned to the profession they were in now, given their satanic cult-like upbringing if their names were anything to go by), his uncle Lucas, Zachariah himself, and two new faces that Cas knew he would never learn the names of were all standing around him. Lilith held a small camera in her hand. She was there to direct and record. The others were there to fuck Cas into the ground.

                He felt his palms sweating. His father had set him up with a few threesomes in the past, but he had never been gangbanged before. Somehow, he knew that it would not be pleasant. He was right. It was long and exhausting, and by the time he got through them all the first ones were hard again. He had never had two dicks in his ass at once before, which quickly changed that day. It was horrible, demeaning, painful, and when he wasn’t staring at dicks in his face the camera was there to take their place. Tears fell until there was no moisture left to give. And still the day steadily dragged on. The others took breaks for food, but all Cas was given was the peanut butter he had to suck off balls and penis after penis, all covered in his own excrement and blood. He licked it out of pubic hair and forcefully swallowed the few strands that came free down his throat with everything else. They gave him water regularly to keep his mouth moist, but spared no other comfort for him. And still the camera’s evil eye trailed him, following every movement and every spike of flush-filled shame.

                “What’s wrong Castiel?” His father asked a few hours into the session, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I thought I was doing you a service, son. After all, clearly I wasn’t meeting your appetite before. With everything I gave you, you still sought out more from your classmates. Well, no worries. From now on, I will make sure you have more than enough dick to satisfy your needs. Because that’s all I ever do for you, you selfish bastard. I make sure that you get what you need, what you deserve. Because I am your father, and owe it to you and your mother to make sure that you suffer, but remain sated with all of your unholy desires. Because you are my son, and I love you. Now, show me how much you love me.” And with that Castiel found his mouth full of hot, hard flesh that he instinctively sucked and licked and stroked to completion. The day wore on, long and exhausting. Come early evening, Castiel had nothing left to give. The others paid his father their due and departed, Cas long since asleep by the time they left. That Sunday was painful and difficult. He was used to the burn in his lower extremities, but this brought the pain to a whole new level. He felt blood, not sweat, trickling down his legs as he awkwardly gaited out his run.

                The food and rest helped, but nothing seemed to ease the ache he felt within. It took his father’s perverse persuasion to chide him into straightening out his stride as he completed lap after lap. The food was delicious, but sat hollowly in his stomach. Monday was fast approaching, and Castiel longed for it in equal amounts of dread and hope. His soul itself sang for Dean’s presence, steadfast beside him. At the same time, he felt the urge to shield himself from that prying gaze. After all, Dean brought him happiness, but in an instant Dean could learn the truth. And then, Castiel was certain that nothing but pain and sorrow would come of that discovery. He was torn, conflicted in ways he never knew possible. And it hurt, but it shone so brightly in the darkness within that he couldn’t resist it. He was addicted to the taste of happiness Dean had brought him. And he would do anything to keep that spark in his life.

                So he did as commanded, became once again the obedient son for the weekend, and atoned for his crimes. In the back of his mind, Dean never left him. And he held on to the feeling of warmth engulfing him with every harsh thrust. For the first time since Cas could clearly remember, he finally saw a light at the end of his sorrow. A light that shown with the green of leaf-filtered sunlight and golden skin warped around a friendly, heavenly smile. He was surrounded by the memory of friendship and love, and it made everything he went through bearable. It made all his pain worth it for the knowledge of another week spent in the company of friends. So Castiel did all that was asked of him without complaint, and in his darkest of shame he held on to that burst of light. Dean would be there, and Castiel was determined to never push him away again.


	14. Chapter 14

Dean and Cas steadily grew closer, but there were still minefields full of barriers between them. They told each other everything about themselves except for the most important bits. After Dean’s little heart-to-heart they had so long ago, neither boy felt like broaching the subject again. Too many skeletons they would like to pretend had been laid to rest in their past. Sam teased them, but good-naturedly. After all, seeing his brother happy made him happy, and Castiel’s rare smile was always contagious.

                They still worked out, and had begun studying together as well. Dean taught Cas how to fight, and Cas focused on teaching Dean how NOT to fail all his classes. Days turned into weeks. At least once or twice a week Cas would even spend the night, but never on weekends. Mondays and Fridays were the worst in Dean’s opinion. Mondays Cas was reserved, withdrawn, and clung to Dean tightly, not speaking but needing the reassurance the Dean was truly there with him. Fridays Cas was bright and open again, but there was a sadness there at the approach of another weekend.

                Meg still openly flirted with Cas, even though Dean laid a clear claim on his lips whenever they were in her presence. She’d merely roll her eyes and continue on making lewd remarks and obvious winks. Cas always blushed, still so innocent for someone with the reputation that stubbornly clung to him. Uriel and Raphael had turned to other means of getting their satisfaction from him. There were no more bathroom encounters, but the stalls were covered with all forms of shameful writing that he endured every visit.

_Cas sucks dick_

_Novak takes it in the ass and the mouth_

_Castiel has herpes_

_For the best head, find blue-eyes_

_Cas is a whore_

                The list went on and on, every a few drawing of a stick figure labeled as him on his knees in front of a long line of guys. There wasn’t a single stall he could find that had been spared the graffiti. Not just that, rumors would spread about him, usually involving street corners and cheap nights of him servicing needs. A few about him bending over for teachers to get the good grades he currently received. But none of this touched him too closely, surrounded by friends. Adam was still distant, but helpful. Crowley had taken an increased interest every since the school found out about his dad hitting him.

                Crowley would come over uninvited and use his best smooth talk to try and worm information out of him. Cas didn’t bite though. Eventually, Cas noticed boys following him. Dean and Sam cornered one of them after a few days of strange behavior. It took one threat from Dean and the kid spilled everything. Crowley had blackmail on him, and was making him trail Cas, find out everything he could about him. Castiel shifted uneasily. Being watched so closely, he would have to be even more careful. If Crowley found out, then it wouldn’t be long before everyone, including Dean, knew as well.

                Dean still respected Castiel’s reservations about clothing being removed, but it didn’t stop him from trying. They got into a pretty big fight the day before Halloween. Cas was still sore, his father had carved the thrice repeated _killer_ into his flesh again the night before. Dean had tried to grind into Cas, who had merely slightly recoiled. After a few minutes of his obvious disinterest in the progression of intimacy, Dean finally lost it.

                “Really, Cas? I mean, I’m trying here, I’m really fucking trying. But if I’m wasting my time with this, with us, then just let me know.” Dean fumed. This was the longest he had been without sex since his first time four years prior. And while he might have taken care of his frustrations daily in the shower, it still didn’t make getting blue balls every time he and Cas got carried away any easier. And now, to top that off, Cas couldn’t even be bothered to get hard anymore.

                “I’m sorry, Dean. It’s just, I’m not quite comfortable yet with-“

                “Not comfortable? You? Cas, the first day we met you sucked off three guys in the bathroom. Fuck, you even tried to get on your knees for me once.”

                “I can do that again, if you want.” Cas answered quietly, eyes downcast. Dean felt himself deflate a little. “No man, I mean, I would love it and all, but that’s not what relationships are like. It’s more…I scratch your back you scratch mine sorta thing.”

                “Perhaps we could…satisfy each other. Without removing clothing?”

                Dean chuckled. “I don’t want to come in my pants, and I don’t want you to either. All the way or nothing at all. Understand?”

                “Yes.”

                “So…you mean we can-“

                “I merely affirmed my understanding, Dean. My stand remains the same. I’m…I’m not comfortable with you seeing my body Dean.”

                “But you are comfortable with my dick in your mouth?”

                “Yes.”

                “Just not the other way around, is that it?”

                Cas nodded. Dean sighed. “This is so fucked up.”

                “I apologize, Dean. If this is a hardship for you-“

                “Nope.” Dean cut him off. “Not even going to go there. Just, we’ll keep on like we have been I guess. Because I would rather have permanently blue balls than to have to look at you and know you weren’t mine anymore.” That was as close as Dean ever got to an _I love you._ Cas smiled.

                “It’s okay. I love you too.”

                “Yeah, shut up you old sap.” Dean blushed, ducking his head for one last kiss before they head downstairs for dinner. Benny was back with gumbo, again, but no one was complaining. The table was friendly as always. Cas really was family now, at least on Mondays through Thursdays. The rest of the time, he was definitely as far from family as possible, at least in his own head.

                Halloween was definitely an event. Cas had convinced his father to let him attend the party, even though it was a Friday. Dean wasn’t sure how he convinced his father, but he was glad. And if Cas winced sitting down, he always made sure Dean was looking away first. It was truly a great night. Cas was an angel, because Dean had joked that he was his angel. Still, the wings and halo were all they got from the costume shop. Cas had been stubborn though, and instead of getting the small, fluffy white ones he was initially steered towards, he went for the larger, sleek black ones. Smiling sadly, he thought they would match the tattoos on his back, if his tattooed wings were whole again that is. He wore a simple suit with the same tan trench coat he wore the first day he met Dean. Everyone joked that he looked like a holy tax accountant. Castiel didn’t agree, but still laughed along with his friends.

                Dean was a vampire. Well, he got the fangs and wore them off and on throughout the night. He was still clad in jeans, a plaid flannel, and worn leather jacket. But he said that made him a vampire. Benny was one as well, but he went all the way, even wearing a long cloak that made him look older and more formal than everyone was used too. Jo was covered in fake blood and guts, claiming to be the victim of a dog attack. Charlie of course was Hermione, and Sam had devil horns and bloody lips, claiming to be the devil himself. Crowley even showed up in a suit with a cheap crown, smirking with a “King of Hell, obviously” whenever his costume was questioned. Garth went full-fledged werewolf for the night. Ruby was a demon, Lisa a zombie cheerleader, Jessica wore a red, flowing short dress. “I’m fire, obviously. Can’t have hell without it, and with Sam being the devil and all…”

                “What she means to say is that she lights the fire in his loins.” Charlie cut in, causing both Sam and Jessica to blush crimson red. Meg wore a simple black outfit, saying she was a badass and leaving it at that. Kevin wore a suit, saying that he was president. And with that, the most ridiculous group of teenagers partied through the night. It seemed like half the school had shown up. Crowley was hosting at his house, what with his parents gone and all. Dean convinced Cas to try some of the beer someone had brought, but after his second cup, he stopped. Tomorrow would be bad enough for him, he didn’t want to add hangover to the mix.

                Crowley approached Bela Talbot, British like himself. He knew that Dean and Bela didn’t really get along. Bela had been after Dean since he stepped foot in school, scorned at every attempt. First it was Lisa in her way, and now Cas. “Hello darling.” Crowley smirked.

                “Fergus.” She drawled, knowing the boy hated his first name. True to form, he scowled. “Crowley!”

                “Fergus.” She repeated, smirking.

                “Listen here, you bitch.” He leaned in a little closer. “I happen to have photograph evidence of you lifting thousands of dollars in jewelry from that shop last week. No, if you don’t want this information finding its way to the nearest police station, then I suggest you undertake a little favor that I have planned.”

                Bela tensed. “Upstairs.” She snapped, leading the gloating boy to an empty room before shutting and locking the door behind them. “What do you want.” She growled.

                “A certain little misunderstood blue-eyed angel has taken my interest. I want you to set up surveillance in his house. Make sure they can’t find the cameras. Review the information regularly and report anything out of the ordinary to myself.”

                “For how long?”

                “Until I am satisfied. Until I say you are done, you whore.”

                “And afterwards?”

                “After my curiosity is sated and I deem your job well done, then the pictures I have of you will be destroyed. Do we have a deal?”

                “Deal.” Bela eventually grated out, shaking the smirking boys hand.

                “Excellent.” Crowley drawled. “No, unless we’re going to get hot and heavy in that bed over there, I have a party to get back to.”

                “You’re a pig.” Bela seethed, storming to the door. She would set up surveillance as told, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to be playing by his rules. Anything she found, anything she saw, she would decide what to do with. After all, if the boy was suffering at home, then it would only be fair. After all, if he eventually broke, the Dean would be hers and hers alone. The next day she went to the house to find it empty. Cameras were installed in every room after the simple break-in she performed. Back in her house, she checked to make sure they were all working. The batteries would be changed weekly, but that wouldn’t be a problem. After all, her research told her that the house would be empty almost every weekend. It would be a long few months, but it was better than jail time. And so she settled in to watch, reviewing all the footage every few days.

                Weeks went by, and every day she told Crowley that nothing out of the ordinary was happening yet. But there was a decent portfolio of screenshots she printed out accumulating in her room. Those sick fucks gave her a hell of a lot of footage to work with. She knew exactly what she would do with it too. After all, what better Christmas present to give Dean than pictures of his precious _boyfriend_ with his mouth and ass full of his father’s cock. If anything could end their relationship, she was sure this was it. And after Dean dumped his disgusting lover boy, then who else but Bela would he turn too? She smiled, settling in to review more frames, immensely glad that Crowley picked her for the task. She printed a few more images that night before turning in. Christmas couldn’t come fast enough.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize, but posts are going to slow down here for a bit. I've been having to work later, which means less time for writing. Posts will come as often as I have time, but may or may not be every day as has been my habit in the past.

                Weeks went by, routine falling seamlessly into their lives. Cas felt joy bubbling over every day of the week. Weekends were a dark blot on his life, but so much easier than before. His father still beat him, but much less frequently. Instead, he inflicted mental torture on his son, verbally lashing out and shredding self-esteem every chance he got. The brand on his chest and the words carved into his shaft were renewed weekly, but other than that and the lashings coupled with beatings were all that was inflicted. Cas continued to be gangbanged every Saturday, and the film collection his father had grew. Occasionally, he would pull out the dresses and make-up for more photos of humiliation on Sundays, which only increased as Castiel’s physique hardened and filled out from his work-outs with Dean.

                It was the Friday before Thanksgiving, and Cas and Dean made out for as long as they could before separating, neither of them knowing if they would spend any time of their break together or not. They were more or less distracted by the time Zachariah pulled up, interrupting them with a cough. The two jolted apart, sharing an awkward goodbye before Cas climbed into the car. His father seemed displeased, but Cas was too happy and warm to care. He touched his lips reverently. Even after all this time, he never grew tired of the feeling of Dean’s lips on his own. The ride home was silent, but Zachariah quickly let his mind be known the second they were behind the closed doors of their house.

                “You and Dean have gotten quite close, haven’t you son?”

                “Yes Father.” Cas met his eyes, emboldened by his time with Dean. He was fighting back more, something that displeased his father.

                “But you’re not fucking him.” Zachariah said quietly. Castiel’s downcast expression was all the answer he needed. “No, you can’t fuck him, can you. Because then he would learn your shame. He would see the dirty stains on your soul, and leave you in the cold. If he knew who you were, he wouldn’t want you anymore, would he?” Zachariah continued darkly, stepping closer to his son.

                “No, he wouldn’t.” Castiel answered, believing it to be true.

                “But I do know you son. And I haven’t left you. I’ve been good to you Castiel. But perhaps it wasn’t enough. Perhaps your sin and lust-clouded desires were too much for you to resist. Am I not good enough for you? After everything I do?”

                Castiel didn’t know how to answer. “Father?”

                “Hmm. I’ve been thinking, Castiel. And I realized that you haven’t been enjoying our time together, have you?”

                Castiel knew better than to answer.

                “So, tonight, I’m going to make you come. I’m going to blind you with pleasure, and send every thought of Dean as far from your brain as I can.” Zachariah leaned closer. “Is that what you want, son?”

                Castiel shivered, but before he could answer, his father’s arms were a vice around him and his lips pressed into his own. He panicked, feeling bile rise as his father wormed into his mouth. Blue, wide-eyes stared into the scrunched up concentration of his father’s closed expression. Hands roved over him, pulling closer before releasing a stumbling Cas back into the wall.

                “Come upstairs, son. I bought us some toys to use.” His father smirked, grabbing his hand and leading the stunned boy upstairs to his room. Cloths were removed, and more kissing and groping took place before Castiel found himself sprawled on the bed, his cock in Zachariah’s hand. It didn’t take long to work him to hardness, unaccustomed as he was to behind on the receiving end of such treatment. It all felt wrong, so wrong, but the pleasure stubbornly persisted. When he was close, his father slipped a cold, metal ring around him before turning his son over and exploring his ass with lube-covered fingers. He quickly found his prostrate, and stroked and stroked at it until his son was a writhing mess beneath him.

                Zachariah filled him, and thrust smoothly as his hand wormed around to beat his cock in time with his movements from behind. Castiel hung on the edge for what felt like days, the pleasure almost painful with how sensitive he found himself. His father came, but continued stroking and returned his fingers. What felt like hours later, Castiel was flipped back over. One hand returned to his cock, the other his hole as lips attached to nipples to suck and nip and lave. His father worked his way up and down him, returning to his lips here and there. Castiel felt disgusted with himself. He had never enjoyed being with his father before, and the thought that he could ever like it terrified and repelled him. By the time the ring was removed and Cas screamed through pulse after agonizing pulse of his orgasm, he was weak and shaking. His father smirked, kissing him once more before going to shower. Castiel cried. This hurt in a way he never thought possible.

                Shame filled him, and in that moment Cas hated himself. Hated his body. Hated his pleasure. Even though it had been weeks since he last cut himself, the razor found its way into his hand and blade into his flesh. He watched the blood flow numbly, allowing his father to clean and bandage him afterwards. They curled together in the same bed to sleep, much to Castiel’s displeasure. This was all new, all wrong, and he found himself longing for the days before Dean. Where pain was all he knew and everything was familiar. Everything had its place. But now, all that was shattered, and Cas felt himself break in a way he hadn’t in a long time. It was like that first night his father had taken a 7 year old Cas to bed, confused and scared.

                His uncle came over the next day, and the two took him over and over for the next few days. His father left for business late Wednesday night, and Lucas returned home to spend thanksgiving with his girlfriend. Cas would be alone until Saturday, when his father had promised an immediate trip to the cabin.

                Thanksgiving morning, Cas decided to call Dean.

                “Hello?” Dean answered groggily, clearly enjoying the benefits of sleeping in.

                “Hello, Dean.” He smiled fondly.

                “Cas? Hey, what’s up!” Dean seemed to perk up. They hadn’t spoken since Friday, and Cas had been neglecting his phone with his father and uncle around.

                “Well, my father is out of town until Saturday, and I was wondering if I could come over. I know its Thanksgiving and all, and I don’t want to impose-“

                “Wait, what? That’s awesome! And impose? No way man! You’re family, and no way in hell am I letting you spend Thanksgiving alone. Give me half an hour and I’ll be over to pick you up!” Cas could practically hear the smile in Dean’s voice.

                “I’ll be waiting.” Cas answered, hanging up. That warmth in his chest was back, and despite the past few days, he felt happy again. For the first time since his mother died, Cas would have a real Thanksgiving, spent with people who cared for him. No more siblings that he kept at arm’s length to protect them and himself, no more Father who looked at him and saw nothing but his dead wife, no more beatings after turkey. Just friends, family, and something to be thankful for.

                It was a great day. The food was perfect, the atmosphere warm and friendly. Everyone helped out in their too-crowded kitchen, sharing smiles and good-natured bickering. Cas forgot about his past, forgot about home, his scars, everything. Right then and right there, he was part of the family. He was accepted, belonged, and with all his heart he longed for the day when he would be able to live in a place like this. He had never given thought to the future, always thinking it would be much the same. But now? Now he pictured himself and Dean, growing ever closer as the years went by. He pictured Sam, bickering back and forth with him as a brother. He imagined coming here for dinner’s, for drinking contests with Ellen and Jo (and from what he had seen, those two could hold their liquor better than most men he knew). He saw Charlie gentling teasing him as she introduced him to new levels of “nerdiness”. She was truly like his little sister, so much different from Anna but still so loved, the same fire burning inside to break free of all expected of them and achieve new heights of their own making.

                He felt a stab of longing then. Gabriel had always been kind, even with his pranks. No matter the time of day, candy was always on hand he would willingly offer up to Castiel, even as he jealously hoarded his stash from the rest of humanity. Anna was sweet in her own way, never judging her brothers and always listening if they came to her. She was tough, like Jo, and could hold her own even at the young age of 11. He knew she probably hated boarding school, especially the Catholic one she was at. But she was free. Castiel wrote her occasionally, but less frequently as their time apart drew one. Gabriel was in college now, majoring in art. And boy, could he draw. Castiel still had pictures from him hidden in a box under his bed. Even though he was only 19, Gabriel already had connections. He knew some people, good friends of his, who owned a gallery, and posted his work almost faster than he could whip pieces out, making him a good profit. He was also exploring avenues in animation, and making friends in several corporations who promised him jobs as soon as he had his degree. They would both shine, excelling at everything they did.

                But Castiel had no idea what he wanted to do, not yet. So long as Dean was by his side though, he knew that he would achieve whatever he set his mind on. Perhaps something with children, after all Castiel loved them, loved helping them and playing with them. Maybe a teacher, or even a counselor. Who knows, maybe he would even become a college professor in history or foreign language or English, his three favorite subjects.

                His musing was interrupted by arms wrapping around his waist and lips pressing to his neck. “What’re you thinking about.” Dean mumbled into his skin. Castiel smiled. “I’m thinking about how happy I am. Here, with you and your family.”

                “Well, perhaps I can make you even more happy.” Dean grinned, turning the boy in his arms to press lips to soft lips. It was chaste enough, after all there was family in the room, but enough to tug Castiel’s smile even wider as the siblings catcalled. Dean kissed him again before chuckling and bowing to the others as they laughed and applauded. Sam groaned, covering his eyes with a large hand, but smiling at his brother’s happiness.

                The food was delicious, Ellen making sure that helping after helping was stacked onto everyone’s plate.

                “So Castiel.” Ellen began, glaring until the table quieted down enough for her to be heard. “I hear your father is out of town for a few days.”

                “Yes mam.” Castiel replied after swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes covered in the most succulent gravy he had ever tasted. “I was wondering if I could spend the night.”

                “Of course, you’re welcome here anytime.” She smiled. “Just make sure you boys use protection.”

                Both Cas and Dean turned bright shades of red. “Ellen-“ Dean sputtered. “We-we’re not..”

                Ellen laughed. “I know you’re not. But I wasn’t born yesterday. I was a teenager once, and now I have a house full of them. You’ve all been given the talk. Just remember to be smart about it once you start.” Castiel remembered that talk. Ellen insisted on giving it to all of her children’s boyfriends/girlfriends. It covered the basics of safety, and ended with a pointed look to the cabinet full of shotguns as a warning for breaking her kid’s hearts. So far, no one had wanted to test her yet. She could be a very imitating woman.

                They all sprawled in the living room after, bringing down pillows and blankets so the overflow from the couch and chairs could sit comfortably on the floor. They watched Lord of the Rings, upon Charlie’s insistence. Castiel wasn’t sure how it related to Thanksgiving, but enjoyed it nonetheless. He fell asleep against Dean, who was also snoozing and slightly drooling. Cas smiled, slipping into a light nap. Afterwards, everyone went outside to toss some football, enjoying the fresh, crisp air. They came back inside, laughing and slightly pale with rosy cheeks from the cold. Ellen heated up hot chocolate all around, and they used some leftover turkey for sandwiches.

                Despite the nap, by the time nightfall rolled around, everyone was exhausted. Not tired enough to pass up s’mores though. They built a fire in the backyard fire pit they had for just such an occasion, and sat around heating up marshmallows and swapping ghost stories. It was the perfect end to the perfect day. By the time they were curled up in bed, Castiel felt full and content. Dean smelled like smoke and sweat, underlain by the sweetness of chocolate and marshmallows and his own, earthy scent. Cas breathed deeply, pulling him closer. They were chest to chest, arms wrapping around and legs intertwined.

                “I’m glad I got to spend the day with you.” Cas looked into the other boys bright green eyes through his lashes.

                “I’m glad you called.” Dean leaned in, hesitating a mere breath away. “Today was great. Spending it with you made it perfect.” And they kissed, all slow-sliding of tongue as they tasted and explored. It wasn’t lust driving them, but love. Castiel realized that then, in that moment. He was in love with Dean. He had known he loved him for awhile now. But in love? He never thought he would find that, would be capable of finding someone to feel that passion with. But Dean had moved slowly and surely into his heart, and without a doubt or care in the world, Castiel threw himself into that feeling. He loved Dean, and would cherish the boy forever. They feel asleep a short time later, noses brushing and sharing each other’s breath, hearts slowing to almost simultaneous beats.

                Who knew what the future would bring, and who cared? Because no matter what happened, Castiel knew he could always look back on this moment, and he would be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't posted a playlist or anything because I listen to many different genres. But for the majority of this chapter, I listened to a soundtrack from Spartacus. The link is here, if you would like to listen. I find instrumentals/soundtracks/classical music to be good for reading and writing. There are a few more dark chapters to come, but many lighter and happier ones as well. Hope you enjoy!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKnzHq3MVVY  
> Also, a few people have brought Bela's callousness towards a rape victim to my attention. For any and all wondering, I based this off of my perception from the show. She was willing to let people suffer and die if it meant that she could make a quick buck. That show's at least sociopathic tendencies along with an extremely self-centered and narcissistic personality. She allows the treatment of Castiel to continue because she is indifferent to it at best, no sort of empathy to understand his pain. Also, Zachariah had no qualms torturing Dean and Sam to get Dean to say yes. He even smiled while doing it, only getting angry when he doesn't get his way. His treatment of Cas is his way of getting revenge and also shaping his son to show the obedience he wants. If anyone has problems with this story, please don't hesitate to bring it to my attention, and I will attempt to explain my reasoning or fix any errors that you find. I hope that you continue to enjoy this story, and stick through to the end!!! It (should) be a happy one!!!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a happy chapter!!! No pain, no angst, just happiness and sunshine!!! Sorry again about slower posts, but work is still busy so I don't have much time to write. Still, will definitely try and keep getting at least one chapter in every week. Shouldn't be too many more chapters before Dean finds out, so Cas won't suffer too much longer!!! Enjoy! :)

                Friday slowly pulled him from slumber. Dean fought it stubbornly, struggling to return to his dream. It was a good dream, he and Cas were at the lake again. Only it was just them. And cloths had somehow magically disappeared. And Cas had been thrusting into him with sweet, slow rocks of his hips as the water lapped all around their chests and tongues danced in perfect time with the rocking movement below the water.

                Groaning, Dean hitched his hips forward half-asleep, searching for friction. And boy, did he find it. He felt the firm, soft cloth-bound flesh of a deliciously warm cleft shift subtly back into him. Freezing, Dean’s eyes instantly flew open. He stared at the back of Cas’ head, slowly remembering the previous day as his love continued to slumber beside him. Dean frowned, waiting for his dick to magically turn into a vagina. Since when did think of anyone as his love? Much less feel warmth spread at the thought.

                Cas pulled him back to the present by grumbling in his sleep and shifting slightly, putting even more pressure on Dean’s incredibly hard hard-on. It took all of his self restraint not to rut against Cas like a fucking animal. He bit his lip, hips stuttering slightly of their own accord. So much for self restraint. The arm Dean had around Cas shifted as he pulled away with every intent of going to the bathroom to take care of his persistent erection. He froze though when he felt the tent in the other boy’s pants.

                “Dean.” Cas breathed, thrusting towards his hand. Knowing this was all kinds of wrong, Dean allowed his hand to brush and stroke and rub him, keeping clothing between his hand and Cas’ surprisingly impressive erection. He could tell it was longer than his own, if slightly thinner. He knew how Cas felt about clothing being removed, and wasn’t going to slip his hand inside anything until they were _both_ conscious and consenting. As it was, Dean couldn’t bring himself to wake Cas either. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, and the tension and worry he carried around during the day smoothed away to an expression leaning towards bliss as Dean applied more and more pressure. Dean began moving his own hips, matching the lazy pace that Cas had already set.

                “Dean.” Cas all but moaned now as Dean started kissing and licking his neck, pulling an earlobe in to gently roll between teeth as he sucked. The pace picked up, Dean happily obliging. He knew he said he didn’t want to make them come in their pants, but somehow that seemed more appealing with every movement sending him closer to the edge. And fuck, they were still teenagers after all. If this was the only way Cas was comfortable with for now then he would happily oblige.

                It didn’t take long for Dean to come, biting down on the pillow to muffle his cry. Cas was close, so close but it wasn’t enough. Slowly, Dean moved down the bed, ignoring the warm, sticky mess in his underwear. He removed his hand and was rewarded with the cutest frown ever as Cas helplessly sought out the friction that was now lacking. His own hand moved to take up position, but Dean gently swatted it away. He was all but straddling Cas’ left calf now as he lowered his head to Cas’ crotch. He sucked a wet patch right over the head, moaning to add some vibration as his hand came back up to fondle balls through cloth. His other hand landed on Cas’ waist, gently guiding him to continue thrusting as Dean continued to suck and nuzzle and rub.

                He watched his face the entire time, the pleasure and frustration at still not finding enough friction battling for dominance. Dean chuckled, pressing down further. That seemed to do the trick, because warmth was suddenly spreading beneath him and Cas moaned through each spasm until he slumped boneless back into the mattress.

                He slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times before blue focused on green and he stared down at Dean, cheek still resting against his hip. “Dean?” Confusion gave way to the reddest blush Dean had ever seen as Cas took in the mess soaking through his pants.

                Dean chuckled. “Good morning.” He crawled slowly up, never breaking eye contact until his lips were right there. Cas mumbled something about morning breath, but Dean didn’t really give a shit. He kissed the boy firmly, close-mouthed though because, okay, maybe he did give a shit about them both having morning breath. Not to mention the hint of Cas he had tasted soaking through the fabric.

                They broke away, Cas’ eyes darting all over them as he took stock of the situation. The blush was fading, but still there.

                “You, uhm.” Cas cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to.”

                “I know.” Dean smiled. “I wanted to. Besides-“ He gestured towards his own wet crotch, smirking. “You weren’t the only one.”

                “I thought you didn’t approve of performing sexual congress in this fashion.” Cas tilted his head, breaking out his awkward nerd vocabulary. Dean chuckled. “You know, you can just call it sex, weirdo.” He smiled fondly, kissing Cas on the tip of his nose. Cas scrunched up his face in mock embarrassment, but granted Dean a dazzling smile for his efforts. “Besides…” Dean continued, trailing his fingers up and down Cas’ torso. “If this is the only way you’re comfortable with doing stuff like this for now, then that’s fine with me. I’m tired of waiting, Cas. But I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. Way I see it, this is common ground.”

                “Thank you, Dean.” And Cas looked at him with such adoration that Dean felt himself start to blush. Okay, chick-flick moment officially over. “We should probably shower.” Dean said gruffly, standing and pulling his shirt of, and if he flexed and made a show of it, well then at least it was appreciated if Cas’ captivated eyes were anything to go by. “You can go first.” Cas got up as well, collecting clean clothes to change in to. He had actually packed a bag yesterday, so he had no need to borrow Dean’s cloths. Still, somehow the sweats he slept in had come from Dean’s drawers, but neither boy mentioned it. After all, Cas loved the smell of Dean on them, and Dean loved seeing Cas wearing them.

                “Hey Cas.” Dean paused, grabbing his hand. “Do you think, after your scars fade a bit or something, you would be comfortable with, I don’t know, more?”

                Cas looked down, pulling his sleeves up. The scabs were a few days old by now, fading into more scars, but still fresh enough to grate Dean.

                “When.” He demanded softly, fingers trailing over the blemishes in the pale, marred skin.

                “Friday.” Cas answered, equally soft.

                “Was it your dad? Did he hit you again?” Dean’s voice rose, battling to control his anger.

                “No. He didn’t strike me once. It was…different.” Cas frowned, trying to explain without giving too much away. “He made me happy, but it hurt coming from him. I didn’t want him to make me happy.”

                “That makes no sense.” Dean was frustrated. Cas pulled the sleeves back down and ran a hand through his bed-hair. “It’s…I can’t explain it. I’m sorry.”

                “Don’t apologize.” Dean pulled him close and kissed his hair, arms clinging tightly to each other. “Not your fault Cas. Wish you would let us lock the bastard up though. You deserve better.”

                Cas sighed, this being a conversation they had often. “Even if I did, then what? Then all my dirty laundry will be hung for all to see and judge. I don’t need anyways pity, or judgment, or sneers, or laughter or anything. And once the system spits me out, I might not even be here anymore. They could sent me to a group home, or foster care, or my uncle or something. I’d rather be here, where I know I can always come find you. I like us, just like we are. I don’t want anything to tear us apart.” He buried his head deep into the crook of Dean’s neck, breathing in his scent tinged with sweat and sex. “I don’t want to lose you.” He murmured, gripping tighter.

                “You won’t.” Dean assured, rubbing circles into his back and planting lingering kisses all over his hair and cheek. “You won’t.” He repeated, pulling back to kiss his full-on, morning breath be damned. Their tongues battled for dominance for awhile before Cas pulled away, smiling. “Go. Shower.” He laughed, gently pushing Dean towards the door. “So bossy.” Dean grumbled cheerfully, stealing one more kiss before smirking. “I like it.”

                “Go!” Cas laughed, turning back to sort through his clothes. They both showered and brushed their teeth, finally making their way down to get some breakfast somewhere around nine o’clock. Everyone else was already up. Sam pointedly gave Dean one of his best bitch-faces, muttering about thin walls and not needing to wake up hearing him doing _that._ They both blushed, realizing that their little morning act had been a bit louder than they thought. Sam had taken to sleeping on the floor of Charlie’s room ever since Dean and Cas became an item. Even though Dean assured him nothing would happen, Sam still insisted on not being in the room for when it _did_ happen. Still, he was friendly enough after he finished his cereal, resolutely burying any and all memories of what he heard.

                Cas insisted on fixing breakfast, after all he spent almost as much time here as at his own home now that his father gave him free reign during the week. Ellen and Bobby came in as Cas began pulling out ingredients, laden with shopping bags. Ellen had tried dragging Bobby into some Black Friday shopping so they could get ahead on presents, after all, four teenagers meant Christmas could be pretty expensive. But even Ellen had had enough after only an hour, letting Bobby bring her back to the house before she broke out the shotguns. Still, they had gotten plenty, quickly shuffling everything to their room before returning to the kitchen.

                “Would you like anything?” Castiel asked, counting out how many eggs he should scramble.

                “We’re fine. Ate before we left. Dying for some coffee though.” Ellen said, even as she eyed the liquor cabinet. Bobby grumbled something about everyone being idjits before fixing himself a cup and slipping into an empty chair. Cas made enough for himself, Dean, Sam (because even though he had cereal, he definitely wasn’t passing up more good food), Jo, Charlie, and Bobby (because food would help cheer him up). Charlie came down next, pulling out bacon to cook beside Cas as he scrambled the eggs. Dean made toast, and Sam pulled out homework to work on that Dean was almost positive hadn’t even been assigned yet. Jo came down, rubbing sleep from her eyes and going straight to the coffee. They would need to make a new pot soon.

                Everyone ate in friendly company, trading jokes and jibes easily. Dean and Cas made their way to the living room after, trailed by Charlie who insisted they absolutely had to watch the last Harry Potter movie, the only one Cas still hadn’t watched yet. They definitely did NOT cuddle, and Dean would defend that to his dying breath. But if his arm found its way around Cas, who in turn leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder, well then that was just because it was more comfortable is all. After the movie, they drove to the nearby gym Dean had finagled Cas into joining with him. They warmed up on the treadmills, hit the jump ropes, and then grappled for awhile before Dean dragged Cas to the weight racks. They were both sore and tired at this point, but Dean insisted that was the perfect time to push even further. Still, they stayed to the lighter weights, not wanting to cause injury.

                Dean smiled when Cas was able to bench 135 lbs. Sure, Dean could bench a solid 335 lbs so long as he was fresh, but it was a new record for Cas, who hadn’t had as much experience it toning his body as Dean. After all, John had been a Marine and insisted his boys learn how to build their strength with him. Most of the motels they stayed at didn’t have a gym, but his father made plenty of friends back in the Corps who kept in contact. Most of them had gym memberships they gladly let him borrow whenever he passed through, and John taught his sons everything he knew about getting into shape. Considering the life they lead, Dean definitely found the benefits of a great physique when it came to seducing the ladies. Now, he was able to pass on what he learned to Cas. Even though he never took his shirt off in front of Dean, he could still see the muscle building there. Could still feel the firmness filling out every time they pressed close.

                They showered at the gym before heading to a diner for lunch. It was more crowded than normal, but they still managed to find an open booth at back. They both got burgers and fries, finishing it off with good ol’ Dr. Pepper. And of course, a slice of apple pie. Dean felt like a cheesy romantic, but he still insisted on two forks so they could share the pie. And fuck, if that didn’t mean he loved Cas he didn’t know what did. He snatched up the check, earning a glare from Cas.

                “Hey, no fair. It’s my turn to pay, so deal with it.” Dean smiled, slipping in a twenty and some change for a tip before they left. Dean pressed Cas against the Impala before he could get inside, kissing him fiercely. Cas returned in equal fervor, tasting of apple pie and just _Cas_. He laughed, scooting Cas aside so he could open the door for him.

                “After you.” He smirked. Cas glared, but Dean could still see the smile in his eyes. They went to the tree house after that. It had become “their” place in a way. Cas wrote in his journal, and Dean pulled out his own notepad to draw. He wasn’t the best, but ever since Cas told him about Gabriel’s drawings, Dean had made it his mission to draw Cas. He still couldn’t get it right though, but he kept on trying. Cas didn’t show him what he wrote, and Dean didn’t show him what he drew. Cas still knew though, given how often Dean would look up at him. Still, he didn’t press and neither did Dean.

                Apparently done with his entry, Cas snapped his book shut and put it back into the trunk before crawling over to Dean, pulling his book out of his hands and closing it without a glance as he set it aside.

                “I wasn’t finished yet!” Dean protested. “You can finish later.” Cas replied, climbing into Dean’s lap. They made out lazily, Cas’ hands roaming under Dean’s shirt to play gently with his nipples. “No fair.” Dean griped, nipping at his chin. “You can touch but I can’t.”

                “If you don’t like it we can stop.” Cas replied, all dark and husky, kissing him smugly when Dean groaned and exclaimed, “Hell no!”

                They made their way back towards the Impala, heading home thanks to their stomachs reminding them that it was dinner time. Benny was there, almost finished making, you guessed it, gumbo. Still, it was delicious as always so no one could find it in them to complain. Charlie roped them into another movie before bed, Star Wars again. Cas yawned until Dean nudged him into lying down, head resting in his lap. Dean ran his fingers absentmindedly through the soft, dark locks as the boy slumbered on. Sam came in, sitting down in the chair to watch the ending with them.

                “You really like him, don’t you.” Sam said once the credits began to roll.

                “Yeah, I do.” Dean smiled, not giving a shit that he was just giving Sam fuel for future teasing. He was happy, and even a little talk about feelings wasn’t going to damper that.

                “He’s happy too. With you, I mean. I can see it. He’s like a completely different person from when we first met.”

                “I know. He’s still got a lot on his plate, but it’s getting better I think. I hope so, at least.”

                “You still think…”

                “That his dad’s a shit? Yeah, absolutely.” Dean frowned. Okay, feelings he could handle, that bastard of a father, well he was a different story.

                “Wish he would let us help.” Sam mumbled, worry creasing his brow.

                “You and me both.” Dean sighed, gently nudging Cas until he woke up. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

                Cas glared groggily before shaking his head and snuggling further into his lap. Dean laughed, scooping Cas up bridal style and standing. Cas smiled smugly. Of course the bastard had goaded him into carrying his ass up the stairs.

                “You’re lucky I love you.” Dean grumbled, heavily making his way up the stairs. Cas’ eyes shot open. Dean groaned inwardly. Of course his mouth would go and betray him. Dean firmly avoided his gaze until a quiet, “I love you too.” Came from the boy in his arms. Dean stopped, not giving a shit about his protesting arms. Lifting him up further, Dean kissed him soundly before making it to the bathroom, insisting they at least brush their teeth and change before bed.

                That night, they fell asleep in each other’s arms again, filled with warmth at their shared confession. They had to wake up earlier to get Cas home before his father returned in the morning, but tonight was theirs.

                “Goodnight, Dean.” Cas smiled blearily, slipping into sleep.

                “Goodnight, Cas.” Dean kissed his forehead, pulling him tighter as he listened to Cas’ breathing slow and watched his face relax. “Love you.” Dean said softly, kissing his forehead again before snuggling in to go to sleep himself. “Love you.” He repeated one more time, smiling as sleep overcame him.


	17. Chapter 17

                Castiel woke in the strong arms and warm safety of Dean Winchester. All the memories of yesterday morning, of last night, came flooding back to him. He smiled, snuggling further into the embrace. It was still early, they had a few hours yet before Zachariah would be home. Castiel sighed, knowing that he had nothing to look forward to until Monday morning. Still, he would enjoy what time he had left with Dean.

                As if sensing that his bedmate had woken, Dean shifted in his sleep, groaning as bright green eyes slowly blinked into focus. Cas stared at those eyes, loosing himself in their kind, endless depths. He loved Dean, loved him like he never knew possible. He would do anything for him, but felt that ever-present tinge of sadness and shame. He could never have Dean, not fully. Because the only explanation for his scars was the truth. If Dean ever saw him without the cover of clothing, then he would know. Everything Cas had done, all the videos his father took, all the pictures and all his secrets would come to life. And Dean would be disgusted. He would leave him, Cas was sure of it.

                Still, ever the selfish one, Cas relished in the joy of the present. He was happy here, in the safety of Dean’s bed and his tender hold. The future could bring whatever pain and sorrow it may, because Cas would face it all in the knowledge that he had experienced the joy of love, and that made everything worth it.

                “Morning.” Dean mumbled, voice rough from sleep once he noticed Cas was awake.

                “Good morning, Dean.” Cas smiled, noses brushing as they kissed. Dean’s nose wrinkled in that adorable way it always did. “Remind me to have us brush our teeth next time.” But Dean’s eyes sparkled in happiness, showing his complaint for nothing more than an excuse to hide his embarrassment. Apparently, Cas wasn’t the only one who remembered, what Dean would refer to as a ‘chick-flick moment’ from the night before.

                “Thank you.” Cas said softly, looking down.

                “For what?” Dean replied, confused.

                “For everything.” Cas smiled into Dean’s shoulder. “For helping me. For caring. For being a friend. For loving me. Just-“ Cas felt his throat tightening. “For everything.” He finished, exhaling harshly.

                Dean smiled, pulling Cas in tighter and rubbing soothing circles into his back. “My pleasure.” He said softly, lips pressed into dark, smooth locks.

                “We should probably get something to eat. I have to go back home soon.”

                Dean groaned. “Stay here.” He moaned. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

                Cas laughed, pushing Dean’s advances gently back. “I’m sure you would. But I doubt my father would approve. Besides, we only have to wait until Monday to see each other again.”

                “But that’s two whole days away.” Dean whined.

                “Only two days.” Cas corrected, kissing the tip of that freckled nose. “And then we can continue this.”

                “Fine.” Dean grumbled, finally rolling out of bed. “But I get first shower. Unless, you know, you want to join me.” Dean winked, smirking suggestively. “Go shower!” Cas laughed, throwing a pillow at him as he left the room. Once Dean was gone, his smile faded. He closed the door and pulled his shirt off, staring at the reflection that met him in the mirror. He saw a pale boy, thin and scarred. He saw wide blue eyes and hair that only cast his skin in a sickly contrast in comparison to its nearly black shade. He saw the inverted cross above his heart, and turning, saw the wings adorning his back. He followed the tattoo with his eyes, seeing even what was covered by his pants. After all, he had it all memorized. He saw the scabs and scars on his arms. He saw nothing. He was nothing.

                Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Opening them, he saw something completely different. He saw a boy, young and unblemished and happy. He saw a mother, kind and loving behind his shoulder. He saw her pale, saw her frown, saw the life leave her as blood poured and he thin frame bloated with water and decay as her skin withered and grayed. He saw his father on his other side, full of joy turned to bitter sorrow and hate. Saw his siblings, with joy turned to ash and resentment and pain. He saw himself, crying as his father struck him for the first time. He was only seven. It was hours after they had buried his mother, and Zachariah was drunk of grief and rage and pain. Gabriel had tried to stop him, and got backhanded for his efforts. Anna just cried. Then next morning, Zachariah apologized, and made sure to never hurt Castiel in front of the others again. A few weeks later, crying for his wife, Zachariah found his way to Castiel’s bed.

                “You have her eyes. You have her eyes.” Zachariah chanted, stumbling and crying to Castiel’s bed. He had no idea what was happening, but he knew that his father’s pain was his fault, and would do whatever was commanded of him to set that right. Zachariah used Castiel’s own shirt to muffle his screams. He prepared his son best he could, but at age seven, nothing could prepare a boy for that. “Her eyes.” Zachariah whispered brokenly with every thrust. “Her eyes…”

                Castiel screamed, but no one heard save his father. No one came for him. Zachariah came, with pain and sorrow flooding him instead of joy as he released. “Her eyes. My Naomi. My poor, sweet Naomi. I love you, Naomi.” He mumbled, covering every inch of his son’s face save his eyes. He stared into those frightened, tear-filled blue orbs, full of love for his dead wife. Then reality returned, and with a snarled, “You killed her!” He reached down to squeeze his son’s privates with hateful intensity. His scream, again cut off, Zachariah continued to squeeze and twist, sending pain so intense coursing through his small, shaking frame that Castiel thought he was going to die. His father left after that, but returned with increasing frequency as the beating also happened more regularly and more violently.

                He saw himself a year later, when the debts that Zachariah had been collecting from his gambling habits finally caught up with him. He couldn’t even remember the name of the man, just that Zachariah had stuck a deal with him. A night with his son for more time to pay. It was a bad night for Cas, but his father had held him after, telling him that he had done good. That he was atoning for killing his mother. That this was just the punishment he had to pay. And he was paying it well. This happened infrequently afterwards, every few weeks or months someone would come collecting, and Castiel would bend over or kneel willingly, being sure to never disappoint.

                He was nine, when Uncle Lucas arrived unannounced. They were in the living room, Zachariah pounding his son who bit the couch cushions to muffle his cries. Zachariah stilled when his saw Lucas staring at them in shock. He quickly dressed and pulled him into the study to talk. Cas heard yelling, but dared not move, heart pounded in fear. He had done something wrong, hadn’t he? When Lucas came back, he was different. Colder than ever before. And Cas serviced him as he did his father and anyone else he was commanded to.

                The others increased as the years wore one, some for money and some for services. Cas saw them all, every shameful deed all at once as he continued gazing in the mirror. His decrepit wings came back into view, reminded him of all he had become. Of his sin. Of the monster he truly was. Closing his eyes, Castiel pulled his shirt on. He didn’t want to see any more.

                Dean returned a few minutes later, and Castiel brushed past him without a word. The shower helped, as he spent the whole time forcing his past back in its box and focusing on nothing but _Dean._ A smiled was fixed on his face and spirits significantly lightened when he stepped out. Dean returned the smile, pulling him in to kiss long and lazy. It was bliss.

                Breakfast was a simple affair, Dean insisting on taking him to a diner. They each got the special, pancakes with scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage all washed down with bitter but delicious hot coffee. Bantering back and forth easily, the two boys spent the morning in happy company. After breakfast, Dean dropped Cas back off at home, he had already packed his things before they left. Their goodbye kiss lasted a bit longer than usual, but that was to be expected Cas supposed. After all, their relationship had taken an important leap yesterday. It was a lot more serious now, neither of them hiding their affection any longer.

                “Love you.” Dean smiled in way of farewell.

                “I love you too, Dean.” Cas kissed him once more before leaving. He stood on his porch, watching Dean drive off as his smile faded. He had just made it to his room when he heard the familiar grumble of an engine pulling up. Fishing out his ringing cell phone, Castiel answered it quickly.

                “Hello-“

                “Come outside, son.” His father said curtly, hanging up. Castiel sighed. His father sounded tense, it seemed he wouldn’t have as long a break as he thought.

                The drive was quiet. Castiel shoved Dean as far down in his thoughts as he could. He didn’t want any part of his memories of Dean tarnished by this. He refused for that to happen.

                The others were already there by the time they arrived, waiting in their cars for their appearance. Zachariah smiled, greeting them and shaking hands. He unlocked the door and let everyone in. Lilith fiddled with the camera settings as the others handed wads of cash over and shook hands with his father. They were laughing, full of sick anticipation. Dutifully, Castiel began stripping with only a glance for Zachariah.

                Camera prepared and pleasantries of business out of the way, the other became undressing as well. Castiel knelt in the middle, waiting for what he knew was coming. He opened his mouth as thrust his ass in clear invitation as they descended. Closing his eyes, he ignored everything as best he could. It didn’t take long though for Dean to surface. His face, his voice, consuming Castiel.

                _You deserve better._

_Love you._

“Stop.” Castiel pulled back sharply. “Stop!”

                “What’s wrong?” Alastair crooned, stroking Castiel’s cheek, ignoring the way the boy flinched. “Surely you’re not backing out? Not now, after everything you’ve done. You’re a whore now, Castiel. And whores swallow cock like the good little pieces of filth they are.” He thrust his hips forward again, but Cas recoiled. “No. I don’t want to. Please. I deserve better-“

                His rambling was cut off with a sharp blow. Alastair struck him again and again, screaming.

                “Don’t say no to me, boy!”

                Castiel screamed as well, feeling the cock that had previously been filling him slip violently and painfully out. And still the blows rained down. He felt blood pouring from his nose and he couldn’t see, eyes white with the shock of the fist connecting again and again with them.

                “Alastair!” Zachariah raged, shoving the man away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

                “Teaching the slut a lesson.” Alastair leering. Zachariah seethed. “I already have cops breathing down my neck. Now you go and strike his face. He’ll have black eyes for quite awhile, and school starts back up in two days. If I go down for this, everyone goes down, you stupid fuck!”

                “But the cunt said no.” Alastair gestured angrily. “I thought you had him trained better than that.”

                “Get out.” Zachariah glared.

                “But I already paid!”

                “I don’t care! Leave!” Zachariah shoved him to the door, throwing his cloths after him. “Get out!” The others stood awkwardly, erections quickly softening. Zachariah breathed heavily, glaring at the door.

                “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“

                “You’re right.” Zachariah redirected his hate-filled gaze towards his son. “You shouldn’t have.” He spat.

                “It won’t happen again.” Castiel forced his eyes downward, once more assuming the posture of pure, submissive obedience. But it was too late. Most of the others were still too uncomfortable to continue, apologizing to Zachariah on the way out. Some of them demanded their money returned, others simply said to keep it before hastily retreating to their cars. Only Azazel, Lilith, and Dick remained behind.

                “Continue.” He father gestured towards them before disappearing to his room. The blow jobs hurt more after that, but Castiel dare not voice discomfort now. He had screwed up big time. His father avoided him for the rest of the day. He was furious, and afraid that he would lash out as well. Castiel realized this with a start. If his father saw him now, he might do something that there would be no covering up. Yeah, he definitely screwed up.

                The next morning, his father was cold and distant. “I didn’t do that to you, Castiel. Anyone ask, you tell the truth.”

                “Yes father.”

                “You tell them that I had some friends over. You tell them that we were all drinking, and you mouthed off and one of them struck you. You tell them how I defended you after, throwing them out. This wasn’t my fault, Castiel. This was all you.”

                “Yes father.”

                “Now get out of my sight.”

                And get out of his sight, Castiel did. He ran, knowing nothing else to do. Tears burning down his face the entire time, but he didn’t stop, running until it was well into the afternoon and his legs could no longer carry him. Collapsing with a breathless yell, Cas choked out cries in between harsh breaths. He had been so good, things were going so well. But he screwed it up, just like he always knew he would. Blackness spread inside him, vile and suffocating in intensity. Everything hurt and nothing mattered. Because he had no one to blame but himself. And the worst part was, every time he thought of Dean now he saw only _them_. The memories turned bitter in his mouth, and it was all his fault.

                All his fault…


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for any errors and shitty writing in general. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, and have to stay up all night tomorrow as well. Still, here is the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy it!!! Oh, and remember, comments are greatly appreciated and only inspire me to write faster!!!

Dean had a great weekend. Sure, he missed Cas the whole time, but now he had a smile permanently fixed to his face. Cas loved him. Really, truly loved him. And whatever issues they had going on now what with the shitty home life and all, Dean knew that they would be able to work through them. He was determined to keep this relationship, to do everything in his power to keep it from falling apart. And one day, he and Cas would have a home of their own, maybe even get married as soon as Kansas allowed two dudes to do something as scandalous as profess their love for one another in the most widely recognized commitment out there. Yeah, they had a few years of high school left, but it seemed so much brighter to Dean just knowing Cas would be there with him.

                Sam teased Dean relentlessly, but in a good-natured, brotherly way. Charlie stepped up and gave him unsolicited advice for how to prepare for whenever him and Cas did eventually get under each others cloths and finally inside, joined exactly how Dean fantasized they would be. It was a good weekend, but Monday couldn’t get there fast enough. Sunday night, Dean got a text. It was the first he had heard from Cas since he dropped him off Saturday morning. It simply told him not to bother picking him up, as Zachariah would be driving him to school. Dean frowned, realizing that it would only be that much longer before they saw each other. But he didn’t argue, didn’t want to be the cause for more strife between the father and son. More importantly, he didn’t want Cas to be hurt because of how jealous Dean was of their time together.

                So that was how Monday morning found Dean in Biology well before the start of class, anxiously tapping his foot as he waited. It was a good ten minutes before students started trickling in, each one sending a stab of disappointment his way when he realized they weren’t the boy he was looking for. Finally, less than a minute before the start of the school day, his angel walked in.

                But everything was wrong, so wrong, and Dean felt his rise of happiness sour and drain away. Cas limped his way in, legs shaky and sore. He was clutched in on himself, trying to hide from all the prying eyes. His head hung low, hair covering his face as best he could. It wasn’t enough though. Dean could see the swollen, black and blue bruises covering the majority of his face. His lip was split, still scabbed over, and he could barely open his eyes. With a simultaneous sigh of relief and wince of pain, Cas sunk into his seat. Dean stared, the dark marks sharper this close up. Neither boy said anything, one out of shock and the other embarrassment. Cas kept his gaze down, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes. Class started and life went on all around them, but they were trapped in their own world, full of pain and confusion. Finally, halfway into class, Dean broke their silence.

                “Cas-“

                “I’m fine, Dean.” He replied sharply, still not looking up even as he kept his voice down.

                “Like hell you are.” Dean snarled. “I’m going to kill him. I’m fucking going to-“

                Cas sighed tiredly, cutting Dean off like a slap to his face. It was full of exhaustion and pain, and every note of that heavy breath tore Dean’s heart that much more. After what seemed like an eternity, Cas quietly began to explain as he knew Dean would want him too.

                “It wasn’t Zachariah that did this. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. There have been other times, I know I denied it then, but you knew. You always knew. But this-“ Cas gestured to his face, hand falling heavily back into his lap. “This wasn’t him. Things had been getting better, I suppose. He didn’t hurt me as much, focused on making me happy I suppose. But, Saturday night, he had a few friends over. Colleagues, I suppose. They were all drinking quite a bit, just enjoying each others company. It was getting pretty late and one of them, well I guess there were some issues or something he was drinking away, but he wasn’t in a good mood. He told me to fetch him another beer, and I told him he had had enough. He kinda lost it then, went all berserk. Zachariah had to drag him off of me, and they fought for a bit too before Zachariah threw him out. He was going to call the cops on him, but I stopped him. I figured he was in enough pain in his life anyways to lash out like that, I didn’t see any reason to make it worse. Anyways,” there it was again, that gut-clenching sigh. “He came back and apologized the next day. Zachariah still made sure he lost his job because of it, though.” Cas smiled, small but there. “I guess I wasn’t the only on hurt because of what had happened after all.”

                “Cas.” Dean furiously fought tears as he stroked the boy’s shoulder gently. “I’m so sorry.”

                “I’m fine, Dean. Really.” His smile widened, finally making eye contact. “Besides, I’m with you now.” The teacher coughed pointedly in their direction, so the conversation ended there for now. Still, if his hand slid down to lock fingers tightly with Cas, then no one said anything about it. Dean rubbed small circles with his thumb for the rest of the period, hopping that such a small gesture would be able to convey all the love and support and comfort that Dean yearned to give him now.

                Cas avoided the subject for the rest of the day, doing his best to ignore it. Dean helped him, glaring questions away before they could find voice. Still, there was nothing he could do when Cas was summoned to the counselor’s office at the end of lunch. It seemed word had spread through the faculty about his appearance, and questions were being raised. Still, Cas wasn’t bothered by it, and somehow Dean knew that he would tell Becky, their guidance counselor, the same story. That’s all it was, a story. Dean couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong with it, but he had been around Cas long enough to know when he was covering something up. Crowley tried harder than ever to get information out of them, and for some reason Bela was straight out _leering_ at them. It made Dean uncomfortable, like she knew something about Cas that Dean didn’t.

                They went back to Dean’s after school, awkward silence descending as Sam pointedly kept his gaze upon Cas, waiting for the explanation that would never come. Ellen didn’t even say anything as she took in his appearance, just pulled him into the tightest hug she had ever given him.

                “You’re welcome to stay here whenever you need to.” She whispered into his ear, Dean just making out her words from where he stood.

                “I know.”Cas smiled, burrowing into the hug. They stayed that way for a long time before breaking apart. Bobby gruffly pated his shoulder and mumbled something along the lines of what Ellen had expressed. Benny, Charlie, Jo, and Sam all smiled at Cas, dishing out hugs of their own. It was their way of saying they were there for him too. He wasn’t alone.

                Dean decided not to work out with Cas. He was clearly in pain from the beating, and his legs still shook. “I ran, afterwards. Longer than I ever remember running. I think my muscles are getting me back for that.” Cas had frowned at his lower half after a few pointed looks prompted the confession. It was Dean’s turn to hug him, which quickly turned into a kiss. It was nothing heated, just lips pressed to lips until Cas took it upon himself to change that. His tongue prodded for entrance, and ravaged Dean’s mouth like a starving man after it slipped inside. It was heated, all tongue and teeth and pressure, going on until both were dizzy and broke apart to gulp in air.

                Dean realized his face was wet. He was crying. No, he was sobbing and choking as they clutched at each other. Cas had moisture in his own eyes, but firmly kept his tears at bay. They kissed again, ignoring their audience as they sought the comfort only provided from a lover’s touch. It slowed, gradually fading until with one last press they parted for good, Dean gruffly wiping his face on his sleeve. Ellen pressed a plate full of sandwiches into his hand, directing them to Dean’s room. They would have all the time they needed to work through this, whatever this was. The others would leave them in peace until then.

                They didn’t talk, didn’t watch a movie, didn’t put on music. The only sound filling the room was the crunch of food as they worked their way through the sandwiches. Dean tenderly touched the black eyes, fingers grazing down to the split lip before falling all together. Cas hadn’t moved, but Dean could tell the touch still pained him.

                “Can you spend the night?”

                “Yes.” Cas smiled. “Zachariah had me bring everything I would need to school today. My clothes for tomorrow are in my backpack.”

                “Good.” Dean replied firmly, pulling the boy close. Laying back, they rested in close embrace as Cas eventually breathed deep and slow, exhaustion settling in to sleep. Dean didn’t wake him, even though he knew he was hours away from sleep himself. Instead, he stared at the beautiful, broken boy in his arms. He thought of everything he wanted to do to help, and everything he knew he could never do.

                “I love you, Cas.” Dean murmured, fingers trailing through soft, dark hair. “I just wish that could change anything.” He sighed, forcing the image of Zachariah striking his son from mind. “I wish I could help.”

                Cas slept on, not stirring when Dean rose to change into his pajamas. He pulled some out for Cas as well, knowing the boy would want to change after dinner, still a good hour away by now. Sam came in a bit later, silently pulling their homework out. Dean thanked him with a nod. Usually, Sam would be completely opposed to this, but they clearly had more important things going on than the integrity of schoolwork. Besides, they both knew that Cas, the nerd he was, would already know everything that had been assigned to them to study.

                Sighing, Dean furrowed his brow and buried his face in soft hair, subconsciously pulling his love closer. “Please, Cas. Let me help you. Just, let me save you. I never told you, but you saved me. I was in hell, full of pain and guilt and regret. And then you walked into my life, and changed all of that. You saved me, Cas. Let me return the favor.” And just like that, the tears were back. They kept coming and coming, silent but still so painful. Dean decided to forgo dinner, settling further in as his own exhaustion crept up. The two boys slept on through the night, both so full of pain but love as well. Things would get better. Dean had no idea when, but he would be dammed if Cas went through one more beating, if one more scab found life on those scarred, pale arms. Whenever Cas needed him, Dean would be there. He only needed to ask. Just let him in, that much more. Cas was keeping stuff from him, and it was killing the kid. But Dean couldn’t force it on him. He just had to wait. There was nothing else for it but patience.

                Sam turned the lights off when he went to bed, smiling sadly at the two boys he loved most in the world. His big brother, and his friend. Rolling his eyes, he spread a blanket over them before going to sleep himself. Tomorrow was a new day. And hopefully, Sam thought, one that would be better and happier than today had been. Tomorrow, Sam was determined to get Cas to talk. If not to him, then Dean. Whatever was going on needed to stop. Sam had already started researching and even talked to Ellen and Bobby. If Zachariah lost custody of Cas, if they were able to free him of the abuse, then the Singer residence would gladly foster him for however long they needed to. After all, family don’t end in blood, as Bobby was fond of saying. And there was no doubt of it, Cas was family. And they would be there for him. Always.


	19. Chapter 19

Bela Talbot smiled, adding another stack of pictures to the already over-full folder. It wasn’t about getting Dean, not anymore. It was more personal than that, just a fun little game she wanted to play. Castiel took the most attractive man at school, which meant that Bela would be forced to thumb through sub-standard _boyfriends_ to hook up with. And Bela deserved nothing but the best. Not just that, it was about status. About something new and shiny in this dull little town. A toy snatched from her grasp, but now she had a new game to play. Tucking the folder carefully away again, she made her way down to the basement. After all, she always had her parents to talk to.

                “Hello Mum. Father.” She smiled, sitting in the single wooden chair she kept down there. The light above her dramatically cast shadows around their frozen figures. “Well, I’m still clean. Haven’t touched any drugs in, hell, over a year now. Haven’t stopped drinking though, but still…not the worst I suppose.” She smiled sardonically, rubbing her hand lovingly over the cement-covered head of her mother. She still remembered it, so clearly. She had been quite intimate with a favorite drug dealer of hers. Only thirteen, but apparently old enough to fuck and, more importantly, get high. It started out innocent enough, strict parents with her life all planned out for her, it was like they were begging for her to rebel. She picked up weed in middle school, which only escalated after that. Cocaine, Heroin, Meth, Acid, nothing was beyond her grasp. But she had been attractive, still was, and had an allowance large enough to get her whatever she felt was needed. Until it ran out, and she started seducing for fixes. The sap she was fucking at the time was nothing to her, nothing except a way for another needle to find its way to her veins.

                But then it all ran south. Her parents came home a day early and caught them. She was already high, just working her way into another fix. They freaked, but didn’t call the cops immediately. Instead, they wanted to _talk._ After all, they didn’t want to deal with a scandal. They tried to convince her to go to rehab, get back on the track they had planned for her. When she refused, they threatened to call the cops. That’s about when her dealer freaked too. Shot them both. Her mom died instantly, as did her dad, but it didn’t stop him from emptying the entire clip into them. She didn’t feel sad or alarmed or angry, she just felt a calm settle upon the high she was climbing. Because despite it all, she was smart. And now she was free too, no one to answer to.

                Her dealer, to put it mildly, was an imbecile. It didn’t take much to convince him into silence. Even better, she manipulated him into paying _her_ 5% of his profits from here on out so no one would ever know that he was a cold-blooded killer. That, and the occasional hook-up whenever she was bored. What? He may have been empty-headed, but he was quite good in the sack after all. Not too bad to look at either. So they covered it up. Poured cement over them after dragging the bodies to the basement so no one would notice the smell. Then she simply e-mailed their resignation to their respective jobs and pulled as much as she could from their accounts. The money kept flowing, as they were quite rich. She was too young to do so, but online transactions and forged signatures could go quite far. After all, everyone thought they were still alive, just on an extended vacation. School systems were easy to fool too, and life went on as normal, only better. She kicked the drugs easily, no longer needed them. But every now and then, she still came down to check in with her parents.

                “I actually didn’t come here about the drugs.” Her smile widened. “You see, there’s this boy. He doesn’t matter, but what does matter is what he took from me. A hunk of an almost-man named Dean Winchester. Easily the only one at that wretched school worthy of me. But he has a dirty little secret, you see. I have videos, pictures, of him sucking cock. Not just any cock, but his _Dad’s._ That’s just fucked to hell, isn’t it? Anyways, he gets beat up quite a bit too. It’s rather unimaginative, in my opinion. Came up with a few rather…more creative tortures on some of my more inspiring highs. Anyways, the little bitch takes it all like the coward he is. Doesn’t even fight back. I rather think he enjoys it. Don’t think Dean will find it quite so appealing though. And you know what? I don’t even care if I get him anymore. Just so long as _he_ doesn’t have Dean to come crawling to anymore. Sweet revenge and all that. Anyways, just a few more weeks left. I have more than enough now, but Christmas can be quite a depressing holiday, don’t you think? Why not add a bit of rape to the picture.” Bela laughed. “Don’t worry, not you. But Dean will see it all, make quite a present I imagine. And if you’re worried about holiday blues,” She frowned, “then don’t. I’ll decorate the basement just as I did last year, lots of colorful lights to chase away the gloom.”

                Bela clapped her hands, standing to make her fashionable exit. “Great talk, Mom. Dad. See you again soon.” And with that she turned off the lights and went to bed.

*                                             *                                             *

                Castiel sighed, leaning into Dean’s embrace. It was Thursday, and the swelling on his face had drastically decreased, accompanied by the bruises. They didn’t bother him too much, but what hurt the most was the look on Dean’s face whenever he glanced at them. All anger and sorrow and anguish. Granted, he still looked beautiful, but it pained Cas to see so much hurt on the face of the one person he had come to love more than anything. They had jacked each other off a few more times since that first thrilling orgasm, cloths staying on for each and every encounter. Tonight probably wouldn’t bring that passion though, as both boys were defiantly in a cuddling sort of mood.

                Things had changed drastically with Zachariah. Luckily, the “loving” encounters stopped, and things were almost back to the way they used to be. Still, everything was much more tense than usual, both of them seeming to know that one more slip-up would unravel everything. Zachariah didn’t want jail time, and Castiel didn’t want everyone to see his shame. He tried not to push his father too far. He knew that if Zachariah lost his temper with him again, then it could be much worse than before. He was looking into property in Mexico, private flights there, everything to cover his trail if needed. Castiel wasn’t stupid. If there was one more slip-up, he had no doubt that his father would take him straight to Mexico with him. And if that happened, then he would never be able to see Dean again.

                Nuzzling his nose into the crook where neck met shoulder, he breathed in deeply. The smell was wonderful, all light sweat and skin and musk and _Dean._ It surrounded him, and he couldn’t get enough of it. Dean pulled him in tighter, one hand wandering up to run clever fingers through the silky-smooth almost-black hair. Lips pressed to his forehead, offering comfort that words would never be able to provide. It was only another weekend, just like every other. They would say goodbye on Friday and see each other again on Monday. But that anxiety was still there. It wasn’t that hard for Castiel to resolve to never leave Dean. If his father wanted to flee the country, then that was fine. Cas wouldn’t come with him though.

                Kissing Dean quickly and softly, Cas rose and padded towards the door. “Where you going?” Dean mumbled sleepily. After all, neither of them got much sleep last night. Thankfully, Sam wasn’t in the room for it. “Just grabbing a quick snack.” He smiled, pausing to look back at the form sprawled shamelessly on the bed.

                “Good.” Dean grumbled. “You’re still too skinny.”

                Cas rolled his eyes, smiling as he headed downstairs. Just as expected, Sam was still in the kitchen. Thankfully, no one else was there.

                Sitting across from him, Cas cleared his throat and waited for his friend to look up. Sam did, bitchface already in place to chagrin for last night. It quickly fell into concern when he saw the hard, serious expression that met his gaze. “Cas, what’s up? Something wrong?”

                “Nothing’s wrong. Just…I want to trust you with something. Something big.”

                “Alright.” Sam cleared his books away and leaned forward, his undivided attention on Castiel. “What is it? Lay it on me.”

                “You know how close I’ve gotten to your family. Not just Dean, but everyone here welcomed me in without hesitation. Despite my efforts, I haven’t been able to get close to anyone in my own family. I want you to know that most of the people I care for most in this world reside here. If something ever happens to me, if I ever disappear or anything, there’s this journal I would like Dean to read. He knows where it is. I usually keep it locked in the trunk. Dean knows where to find it. Just, if I’m gone, tell him what I told you. But please, don’t mention a word of this to him beforehand.”

                “You…wrote him a note?”

                Cas smiled. “More a story, I suppose. It will explain everything. Hopefully help you find me.”

                “Find you? Cas, man, please tell me you didn’t just tell me where you’re stashing your suicide note.”

                “No, I have no intention of killing myself. It’s kind of an explanation, an apology, a farewell, I’m not entirely sure how to describe it without giving everything away.” Cas frowned, eyes cast on the table between them.

                “Then why are you worried about leaving?”

                “My father hasn’t spoken to me about leaving, but I know he is looking into property and transportation away from here. He, uh, gambles sometimes. If he owes too much money, he might try and flee. If that happened, then he would want to take me with him. I doubt there would be time for me to tell you goodbye in person. Also, the man who did this to me.” Cas gestured towards his face. He could see Sam’s brow furrow in anger. Both brother’s have hounded him this week to tell him who it was. Cas flat out refused to tell them anything of any importance on the event. “He is…quite sadistic. Not just him, but some of my father’s other…acquaintances can be dangerous. One of them might come after Zachariah and myself as well. I don’t want Dean to worry though. That’s why I’m trusting you, Sam.”

                “You know.” Sam smiled sadly. “You could always just tell us what you need to now. From everything you’ve said and everything we’ve seen, there’s more than enough dirt to land Zachariah in jail. Just say the word, we’ll call Sheriff Jody and arrange to get you to live here. Bobby and Ellen are more than willing.”

                Cas smiled, but it was sullen and far from the hopeful look Sam had adopted. “I would love nothing more than to do just that. But I can’t. Please, just don’t tell Dean any of this.”

                “Okay. I don’t like it, but okay. Besides, if I did tell Dean then he would be even more impossible to be around this weekend. I mean, he’s always kind of impossible whenever you aren’t here, but it would get worse.”

                “Thank you, Sam.” He stood, walking over to pull the boy in for a hug. He didn’t really do hugs too much, but he figured the occasion called for it. To his surprise, Sam wrinkled his nose and pulled away. His arms dropped like rocks and Cas just stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do now. “No offense, I mean, I would hug you. But, I mean I could hear everything you and my brother were doing last night. Seriously, the walls in this house are _way_ too thin. And I’m pretty sure you were wearing that ridiculous trench coat at the time and I know for a fact it hasn’t been washed since.”

                Cas blushed and pulled the coat tighter. He didn’t really need to wear it, not in here. He just liked the fact that Dean always straightened it out for him, spending much longer than necessary and usually segueing into impromptu make-out sessions. Still, slightly awkward, Cas turned and headed for the cabinet to grab the closest bag of chips. After all, that was the reason he told Dean he came down here in the first place. With one last thank you, Cas made his exit and headed back upstairs. That uneasy turn was still riling up his stomach, but it had settled somewhat now that Sam agreed. He didn’t want anyone to know, but even more than that he didn’t want to leave them. This way, if Zachariah managed to force Cas to leave, then they would be able to find him again. After all, that journal held descriptions of what had been done to him, and now it also held addresses. He included the cabin, his uncle’s house, and the properties Zachariah was looking at in Mexico.

                Smiling, Cas set down the bag and stared at Dean, sleeping lightly. He felt like he was home, happy and warm like he always was around Dean. Sliding carefully into bed beside him, Cas leaned in and brushed his lips to Dean’s before sighing and snuggling in to sleep. After all, Dean wasn’t the only one who was tired. He dreamed easily, not the nightmares that usually plagued him. They were good dreams. All tongue and skin and friction and moans as Cas’ fantasy of him and Dean took flight. But even more than the heat of the act was the look in Dean’s eye. The look that promised love and affection and more. So, so much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and thanks once again for reading! I apologize for slow updates, work is still quite busy. Been in the mood to listen to Kamelot recently, so here is the playlist I listened to while writing this last chapter. Feel free to listen while you read, and remember that comments are the fuel to my inspirational fire!!!!   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4hof__r6rk&index=2&list=RD8hG6DsK4eNo&spfreload=10


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starts out with some fluff, but the ending is pretty violent and depressing. You have been warned! Sorry about the delay in the updates, work kept me busy last weekend so wasn't able to get any writing done. Still hope you enjoy! And as always, thank you for reading!!!!

                Dean lobbed a snowball, easily catching his angel straight in the face. The bitch face he got for that could have only been learned from Sam. Still, it only served to make that irritable, pouty, cold, and wet expression with that ever-present undercurrent of love and adoration look that much more adorable. Cas huffed. “You know, I see no point to this.”

                Dean grinned, that cheeky and happy sort of smile that was all teeth and crinkled eyes. “It’s a snowball fight, Cas. C’mon, its fun!”

                “I don’t want to fight you.” Cas pouted. Dean’s no-doubt witty reply was cut off when a rather large missile of snow and slush with just a hint of mud hit him from behind. Sam’s chuckle let him know who threw it without even having to look around. And given the sly smile that Cas flashed him, the sneaky bastard had been planning exactly that by luring him out. Still, Dean was not one to go down fighting. With a lunge and a yelp from his unsuspecting victim, Dean tackled Cas and let him momentum carry them on as they rolled in the snow. Dean laughed, throwing his head back and letting the joy consume him. Castiel frowned, but his eyes shown the true mirth there.

                “Great. Now we are both soaked through and it’s freezing out here. Remind me how this is supposed to be fun?”

                “Aww c’mon grumpy-pants.” Dean smiled, even as he internally cringed. Right, grumpy-pants. Not exactly his best work, but still. How could he complain when Cas was pinned under him, arms wrapped around his waist pulling him down even closer. “No need to be serious all the time. Besides, I can tell you’re having a blast.”

                “But I’m cold, Dean.” And there it came, the puffed out bottom lip accompanied by puppy-dog eyes at full blast. Yeah, he was really going to have to limit Sam’s time with Cas, his baby brother was clearly a bad influence.

                “Then let me warm you up.” Dean dropped his voice to that perfect sort of husky growl that always sent his angel’s eyes wide with that hint of lust-driven dilation. With one deliberate grind of his hips, Dean sank as close to Cas as he could, locking lips so their heated breath mingled as their tongues fought for dominance. The surprised yelp that came from Cas quickly turned into a growling moan as they rolled a few more times, groping and panting and not-so-subtly grinding, no longer caring about the snow that was quickly soaking them through to the skin.

                “Oh, gross guys. Some warning would have been nice.”Sam grumbled, slapping a hand to his eyes as he came out from behind the bushes.

                “Shut up, bitch.” Dean grinned, pressing in for one last kiss before pulling them both to their feet.

                “Jerk.” Sam replied as always, smiling as he continued. “Seriously though, get a room or something. I’m gonna need to seriously bleach my eyes now.”

                “Sure thing!” Dean let his grin widen, turning to Cas before adding on, “My room?”

                Cas smiled as well, catching on. “Sounds good to me.”

                “No!” Sam groaned, clutching his stomach in mock sickness. “Please Dean, I sleep in there too. Don’t make me move to the coach permanently.”

                “Please.” Dean snickered. “We all know you kip it with Charlie, big puppy dog you are.”

                Sam glared, having no good comeback. Still, the atmosphere was friendly, and everything felt so peaceful and just _good_ right now. Dean never wanted it to end. His brother and his lover on either side of him, bickering and laughing as they all should be. Christmas was only two weeks away. Dean had broached the subject a few times, but Cas still had no idea if he would be able to spend the holiday with them. And if that sent a small stab of pain through Dean’s heart, it was nothing compared to the look of despair that Cas wore. It didn’t take long for Dean to stop bringing it up. Still, he thought about it constantly. This would be the first real Christmas Dean had had in years, and the first ever for Sam. So what if he was being picky and girly and slightly OCD about it? He just wanted the first Christmas with all of them together to be special. And if it just so happened to be 13 days away and he still hadn’t come up with a single gift for anyone yet, then whatever. At least Dean was good under pressure, right?

                “You do realize we have ten minutes before school starts, right?” Sam interrupted Dean’s musing, breaking the mood in that nerdy way only his brother could achieve.

                “Yeah, I know.” Dean grunted, reluctant to leave the carefree atmosphere for another day at school. Cas smiled sadly, nudging them to the car. Of course the nerds would gang up on him. Still, Dean couldn’t be mad, not even slightly irritated. Because for the first time in what felt like forever, he was truly content. He had fought it for a long time, first because of the memory of his mother weighing heavily on him, then his father’s alcoholism and delirious chase across the country, then the ever-present need to care for Sammy, and finally the death of his father grinding guilt into his conscious. But now? Now all that had been lifted from his shoulders. In a flare of girly soppiness, Dean turned to the blue-eyed beauty beside him.

                “You raised me from perdition.” He breathed. And damn if all those crazy books his dad had dug up didn’t lodge some bits and pieces in his brain. Castiel smiled softly, squeezing his hand. “As did you, Dean. I think, perhaps, along the way we may have saved each other.”

                And there it was, that slight pang in his chest. Yes, Cas was happier now. He wasn’t hurting himself, the bullying had stopped, and that smile made more appearances every day. But he wasn’t truly saved, not yet. Because there were still those days where he would flinch away, where he wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, where he would wince with every step he took. Because that dick of a father still had him, still hurt him. Dean wanted nothing more than to get him out, to truly save him. But that was beyond his power for now. To do so, Cas would need to step up and report the abuse. So far, it was a losing battle. But if Cas was content to keep on as they were, then Dean would do his best to be there for him and avoid bringing up any bad memories. Gripping his hand tightly, Dean opened the car door for his angel.

                The day passed in a blur. Everyone was distracted by the looming holiday beckoning, and even the teachers were antsy. Still, schoolwork had to be taught and completed and tests had to be dished out. It wasn’t until school ended and Dean was on his way to meet up by the car that his blissful reverie was broken.

                “Dean Winchester.” The dark boy growled, peeling himself from the shadows of the wall. Uriel, Dean recognized, flanked by Raphael and a few of their other buddies.

                “Yeah?” Dean snapped, anger flaring. He knew who they were alright, more importantly he knew what they did to Cas. “What’s it to you?”

                “Absolutely nothing.” Raphael smiled coldly. From what Dean gathered, this group had been at the top of the high-school food chain until this year. They intimidated and broke anyone who stood in their way, but Dean had broke their spell over the school the moment he and his friends stood up for Cas. Now, they were all but shunned. “But you see, Dean. You humiliated us. You stood in our way and shot us down. An example has to be made. People need to know what the consequences of crossing me are.” With a gesture, a few of the others stepped forward, adopting aggressive stances. Dean may be good in a fight, but he still didn’t like the odds of ten-to-one. Still, if he was going down, he would go down fighting.

                “You first, princess.” Dean smirked, gesturing to the boy closest to him. The first few blows were easy enough to avoid or deflect. But as time wore on and they kept coming, Dean found himself catching more and more of them. His chest constricted with exertion and pain and his breath pulled in harshly. Still, even on the ground his still flailed about, doing his best to minimize damage and deal out some hits of his own. He felt a rib snap with an excruciating grunt. His knee his the cement sharply, deeply bruising the joint. The rough ground scraped him up, and every inch of him felt bruised and bloody. But the boys didn’t stop, they just kept on kicking him while he was down.

                Closing his eyes, he embraced the darkness closing in. It would make the pain go away, and his agony would end for the moment. A chocked cry broke through, dragging him back up instantly.

                “Dean!” Looking up, he saw Cas standing just outside the group, clawing his way in. _No!_ Dean wanted to shout. _No, Cas! Leave! I can’t protect you now._ But no words came out, and Dean watched in horror as the boy was shoved brutally to the ground.

                “Ah. Castiel.” Raphael sneered. “Just in time.”

                “Please.” Cas pleaded, eyes watering as he refused to look away from Dean. “Let him go. Take me instead.”

                “Well since you insist.” Raphael snickered, gesturing for the others to hold Dean down. They were in a secluded spot. Dean knew that no one would find them in time. “How would you like to see your whore in action?” Raphael sneered at him while Uriel laughed.

                “No.” Dean choked out.

                “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” Raphael replied, attention already diverted as he stepped up and unzipped his pants.

                “Close your eyes, Dean. Don’t watch.” Castiel cried softly, tears falling freely. Not waiting for the boy to get on his knees, Raphael straddled him and sank his junk to the boy’s face. Dean watched on in horror, tears finally breaking free as a litany of “No.” and “Stop.” fell from his lips. Still, he could barely move and there was always someone holding him down. One after another after another took their turns with his angel. Castiel afforded them every courtesy, and just by watching Dean knew how talented he must be at it. But his face was wet and creased with pain as he choked them down. It was horrible, and there was nothing Dean could do to stop it.

                “Well, you certainly haven’t lost your touch, slut.” Raphael smiled wickedly once they were finally finished. “Now, you’re not going to tell anyone about this, are you?”

                “No.” Cas replied, tone lifeless as he stared at the ground.

                “Good.” Raphael chuckled before violently kicking the back of Castiel’s head. Dean saw those beautiful blue eyes roll up as Cas lurched forward, face planting limply as unconsciousness took him.

                “Dean, Dean, Dean.” Raphael tsked, stepping over Cas. “Have you learned your lesson?”

                “Fuck you.” Dean spat, struggling to rise even as he sank back to the ground. “You don’t fucking touch him.”

                “Wrong answer.” Raphael sneered, standing over him. “Now, you’re not going to tell anyone about this. Because if you do, this-“ He gestured towards Dean. “Will be nothing compared to what we do to your lover-boy. Understand? Back off. And don’t tell anyone.”

                Dean had another insult on the tip of his tongue, but the blood he coughed up gurgled it into nothingness.

                “Good.” Raphael smiled, and just like that they were gone.

                “Cas.” Dean choked, crawling over to clutch the boy to his chest. “Cas.” He cried again, sobbing into the dark mess of bloody hair. The cement had cracked his forward open, and blood poured freely down that pale beautiful face. Dean didn’t care if he was getting it all over him, he had enough of his own flowing for it to not matter anyways. Instead he kept on clutching, kept on crying, and for the first time in his life, praying. Praying to a God he wasn’t even sure existed for Cas to be alright. For their troubles to end. For Cas to open his eyes again.

                “Cas, you stupid son of a bitch. Why didn’t you listen to me?” He shook the boy, but still no response. “Cas?” Dean pulled back to grip the boy’s face in his hand. Blood was everywhere. So, so much blood. He shook him again, pleading with everything in him to see those blue eyes open again.

                “Cas!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Cas isn't dead. I know I left you with a cliffhanger, but it felt like the right place to end the chapter. Never fear, will start on the next one immediately!!!!


	21. Chapter 21

                Cas remembered being on his knees, surrounded by monsters who called themselves people as he agreed to keep his silence. Then there was nothing but a bright flash swallowed by darkness. Slowly, feeling came back to him. His throat was raw and full of a vile taste. Blood, semen, and the familiar bitter taste of vomit he had swallowed down. His limbs felt heavy, way too heavy for it to be a good thing. His knees burned from where the cement scraped them raw, and his lips were bruised while his jaw protested the strain all the abuse put on it. Worst of all was his head. It throbbed violently, like someone had taken a jackhammer to it. He tried to groan, tried to move, but barely succeeded.

                Then there was noise, real noise not the blaring, whining snow in his head. He focused on that, sure that he knew it. Slowly, that voice broke through the screaming pain. That voice that he would know anywhere. That voice that he would follow everywhere if he could.

                “Cas? Cas! C’mon man, stay with me. Stay with me buddy. I’m here. I’m here. Just try not to move, okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

                “Dean?” Cas moaned, automatically leaning in to the boy he just realized already had him tucked in close. But his voice sounded wrong, slurred and broken to even his own ears.

                “Shhh. It’s okay, Cas. Everything’s okay now. I got you. I got you.” But his voice sounded wrong too, choked and broken and pained. With a jolt, the memories of how Cas ended up on his knees, how he ended up here, like this, came flooding back.

                “Dean!” Cas frantically tried to sit up and grip him, but he hadn’t moved more than an inch before nausea and dizziness sent him collapsing back down weakly. He still couldn’t open his eyes, it felt like they were glued shut. Still, they burned all the same. It wasn’t until he felt gentle yet trembling fingers wiping them that he realized he was crying. All he could see in his mind was Dean, bruised and broken and bloody and in _pain_. After everything Dean had done for him, after all the love and support and all the help that he had given him. After all of that, and Cas couldn’t even return the favor. He had been too late. More than that, it had been his fault. Dean stood up to them because he had been too weak to do it, and now here they both were.

                It was a struggle, but Cas finally opened his eyes with a sharp gasp. The first few blinks were nothing but a red haze, but the blood eventually cleared. The first thing he saw was the sky, bright and blue and flashing just as Dean had described his eyes that one day not too long ago. He remembered it, sitting in what had become their tree house. Dean had been sketching Cas. It didn’t start out as a good day, Cas had been itching for a knife all throughout school. The night before had been…unpleasant to say the least. Catching on to his mood, Dean had started to quietly describe him under his breath as he drew. It didn’t take long for Cas to put the journal away, to crawl over to Dean to thank and worship him with hands and mouth where words choked up and failed him. In the end, it had been a pretty good day.

                “Cas? Cas! You still with me?” Dean broke through his reverie, pulling him back to the present.

                “Dean?” Cas breathed, finally turning to take him in. He looked horrible, probably worse than Cas himself looked at the moment. He had his right arm draped around Cas, pulling him close as his left clutched gingerly at his side. Looking down, Cas could hear the sharp snap of bones breaking all over again. More tears came, clearing his vision even more as they simultaneously blurred it. But it was those eyes that hurt Cas the most. Usually bright and full of life, now clouded with pain and worry. It wasn’t for his own pain, though. No, Cas could tell that the pain Dean was feeling most of all was for him.

                “Dean.” Cas choked again softly, gingerly pressing his lips to the boy’s heaving chest, unable to lift his head.

                “It’s going to be okay.” Dean repeated. Cas finally realized that he wasn’t where he last remembered. Looking around in confusion, Cas recognized the interior of the Impala even as he caught Sam’s frantic gaze in the rearview mirror.

                “Sam?” He finally acknowledged, confusion as to why he was driving and seemed so far away settling in. It took much longer than it should have to realize that was because he and Dean were sprawled in the back, while Sam seemed to be breaking every traffic law known to man as he furiously speeded them to…wherever they were going.

                “Hey Cas.” Sam got out, tight-lipped in worry and fear. “Glad you’re still with us. It was kind of touch and go for awhile.”

                “Where are we going?” Cas considered sitting up for a better look, but thought better of it given his last attempt. No use in passing out again now that he had just woken up.

                “A hospital.” Sam replied, eyes flitted studiously back to the road.

                “Oh.” That made sense. Panic flared briefly, the urge to scream _No! We can’t go there. I can’t go there!_ rose briefly in his throat, but Cas pressed it back down easily. After all, he wasn’t the only one hurt. Dean needed a hospital, needed help more than Cas did now. And somehow, that made it all alright. His father would be furious, and there was the possibility of all his scars and secrets being revealed, but it would all be worth it if it meant Dean would be okay. He would do anything to make sure Dean was safe and well again.

                Dean shuddered beside him, breath gurgling as he coughed up more blood. Numbly, Cas just sat there in his arms. Everything was wrong, and his body refused to obey. The oppressive darkness was lurking back in, seeping at the edge of his vision. It was difficult, but he fought it back. He would be there for Dean. He would stay awake until he was sure his love was being cared for. Time began folding in and out of itself, flashing and spreading as it swirled around his head. The hammers were back, pounding away at his skull from inside and out, drowning out everything else. Even the purr of the Impala he had grown to love faded away. Next thing he knew, Dean’s presence slipped away from his back.

                Panicked, Cas finally found the strength to move, struggling to turn and see where he had gone.

                “It’s okay, Cas. I got him.” Sam reassured him, wrapping Dean’s arm around his shoulder as he dragged his brother out of the car. Dean’s eyes had closed, and giving how limply he hung there it wasn’t hard to realize that he had finally passed out.

                A woman was passing by, stopping in her tracks when she saw them. “Oh my god!” She exclaimed, dropping her purse as she rushed forward. “Here, let me help.”

                “Thanks.” Sam grunted, allowing her to take the weight of his brother so he could return for Cas.

                Even as they struggled towards the entrance, nurses were rushing forward and calling out orders to usher them inside. It was all a mess in Cas’ head. He got snippets of what was going on. Like that the Impala was still running. How Sam was breathing reassurances into his ear. The purse, left forgotten for the moment on the sidewalk. He frowned. She shouldn’t leave it there, someone could steal it. But she was helping Dean, so Cas couldn’t find it in him to object.

                “I got you Cas.” Sam said, pulling him through the doors. Time played its cruel tricks on him again. He was back in the car, watching Sam allow a stranger to take his brother. Cas frowned even deeper. That was wrong. Sam shouldn’t let Dean go like that. They were brothers. But then it hit him. Sam let him go, not because he was being careless. He let him go because he wasn’t the only brother who was hurt. Sam loved him too. It was like a punch to the gut. Cas didn’t deserve Dean’s love, he didn’t deserve Sam to take him in too. It was a different love, granted. But love all the same. Because they were _family._ That word, so foreign and reassuring that Cas had lost long ago, flowing down the river with his mother. But he had found it again. Here, in his lover, Dean. In his brother, Sam. In Bobby and Ellen, who griped at him the same way they griped at their own kids. In Jo and Charlie. In Kevin and Benny and Jessica and Garth. His friends. His family.

                And then he was back, shattering into the present as they crossed the threshold. But it was different now, better in a way. Because he knew he was cared for, and that made all the difference in the world.

                A nurse approached them, and Cas summoned what little energy he had left to gesture towards Dean. “No. Help him first. He needs it more than I do.”

                The nurse hesitated, before taking in how bad Dean really was. With a brisk nod, she turned away and with the help of a few others, loaded Dean onto a bed to be wheeled away.

                “Hey.” Sam nudged him gently, allowing the boy to slump even more into him, exhausted. “You need help too, Cas.”

                “Castiel?” A sharp, clear voice cried out, its owner steeping into view. Dark hair, glasses that he didn’t really need but wore anyways while he was at work, slightly above average height, dark eyes and a pale complexion. Castiel would know that man anywhere. Inwardly cringing, he immediately cast his eyes down to the feet of the man in front of him. Michael Milligan.

                “Hey.” The man crouched in front of him, turning his chin up. Castiel had met those eyes many times before. He was used to the guilt and pity overlain with lust that he would see there. But for the first time, Cas saw none of that. Instead, the man’s eyes shown with sympathy and regret and…could it be possible? Worry. Michael Milligan was actually worried about him.

                “What happened?” He was frowning now, glancing over to where Dean had already been taken and the woman standing there awkwardly, uncertain of what to do now.

                Cas steeled his gaze, letting it glaze over into indifference as he had done so many times when confronted with that question. Michael’s lips thinned before standing to take him from Sam.

                “It’s okay. I’ve got him now. C’mon Castiel, let’s get you cleaned up.”

                “A-alright. Thanks. I’ll wait here I guess.”Sam took a few steps back, frowning as he watched Cas disappear down a corridor adjacent to where he brother had been taken.

                Michael waved off the nurses, saying he was a friend of the family and would care for Castiel himself. There were flashbacks as Michael continued to lead him, bringing him back briefly to all those other times he had done his best to patch Cas up again. But they didn’t hold the body-locking horror as usual. They just numbed him even more, the pounding ramping up in his head in time with his quickening breath.

                “Almost there.” Michael grunted, taking him past the last few doors before steering him into another blank examination room, his office connected through a door at the back. Locking the door behind him, Michael led him to the bed before allowing him to all but collapse on the too-hard surface.

                “I need you to remove your cloths, Castiel.”

                “I’m sorry.” Cas let his head fall weakly down, speaking into the mattress. “I don’t think I have the strength to fellate you now.”

                “No!” His voice came out strangled, so different from his usual calm. “No, not for that. Not anymore.” He took a deep breath before continuing, Cas managing a slight frown of confusion.

                “No.” His tone was gentler now, apologetic. “I need you to disrobe so I can make sure you don’t have any other serious injuries.”

                “Oh.” Castiel replied, indifference seeping in as sleep lurked ever closer. “I’m sorry.” He all but whispered, strength sapped completely. “I still don’t think I can.”

                “It’s alright.” And there is was again, that voice so smooth and trustworthy even though Cas knew he would never be able to trust the man who owned it. “Here, let me help.” Michael was clinical about it, trying to keep everything professional. Both men still flinched at every contact, even though it was nothing they hadn’t touched, hadn’t felt before. But it was different now, no lust behind the movements. Just a doctor helping his patient.

                Michael eyed the scrapes and bruises, gingerly feeling around for broken bones. His head had stopped bleeding long ago, but the pain and sticky warmth of drying blood remained. He dutifully swallowed some painkillers before allowing himself to be sponged down. Michael dressed him in the standard hospital gown, digging out a robe to cover his back as well before stitching up the wound.  
                “We need to run a few tests. You probably have a concussion.”

                “I know.” Castiel sighed. It was a procedure he had been through multiple times.

                “Did Zachariah do this to you?” For the first time, coldness found a way to creep back into his tone. Castiel shivered involuntarily.

                “No. Just some boys at school.”

                “Same boys you used to…you know.” Michael continued awkwardly, a faint blush lighting his cheeks. Anger flared briefly, but his body was too weak to support the emotion. Still, he managed to spit, “Used to what? Do the same things I did to you every time you or my father asked?”

                The blush deepened, and Michael avoided his gaze. “Yes. That.” He squeaked out softly. Castiel sighed deeply before nodding in affirmation.

                “You should report them.”

                “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

                “I know.” Michael sighed, finishing up with his forehead before moving to the damp hair that had new blood oozing through it at the back of his head. They didn’t talk again. Michael cleaned him up, stitched and bandaged every injury before taking him down for tests. It wasn’t until afterwards, when Cas was once again alone with him back in the room before conversation started up again.

                “Does your father know?”

                “No.”

                “You should call him.”

                “You can.” Castiel inclined his head towards the bloody pile of cloths still in the room where his cell phone resided in the pocket of his ruined jeans. “He’s out of town.” Castiel didn’t know why he said it, but it seemed like it should be important. Michael nodded, digging out the phone and dialing the number. Seconds later, Cas heard the muffled sound of his father answering.

                “Zachariah? Yes, hello. It’s Michael. Look, your son is here at the hospital, he was injured pretty badly at school. What? Yes, yes, I took care of it. No one saw anything trust me. Look, I need his insurance information to pay for treatment and-“ Michael paused frowning deeply at whatever his father was saying to him.

                “No! No, that won’t be acceptable for payment. No-I-Look! I know I accepted that in the past and-No! I’m done with that. You have money, Zachariah. You won’t even notice a dent in your wallet paying for his care.” Michael paused again. Cas could hear the yelling coming from the phone, but couldn’t make out any words.

                “Why?” Michael laughed hysterically before screaming himself. “Because it’s wrong, Zachariah! That’s why! It’s wrong and I was a fool for ever agreeing to it in the first place. I was weak and should never have done any of that. Took me a long time to realize it, but I can’t do it anymore. I’m done. Forever. Just e-mail me the insurance details.” And with that, Michael hung up.

                “Done, huh?” Castiel smirked emotionlessly.

                “Yes. I’m done doing those things to you. I’m done hurting you Castiel.”

                His smirk only increased. “So that’s why you haven’t been back? One little ‘no’ and you grow morals all of a sudden.” Michael looked down, defeat and shame rolling from his hunched shoulders. Cas frowned, realizing the man was sincere. A sudden thought struck him, bringing back that tinge of hate for the man in a heartbeat. “But you won’t stop Zachariah or the others from hurting me.”

                “No.” Michael hung his head, returning the phone.

                “Because you’ll get in trouble too.”

                “Yes.” Michael finally looked up to meet his eyes. “Because I’m still weak and selfish and I know I’m going to hell for it, but-“

                “I know.” Castiel closed his eyes, wishing they would just let him sleep. “I understand.”

                It was late, much later than he realized. Hours had passed since Michael called his father. Castiel turned it all over in his head. He truly did understand Michael. Because he was weak too. Weak and ashamed of his deeds. But this wasn’t just about him. This was about Dean too. And where Dean was concerned, he couldn’t afford to be weak.

                Mind made up, he dug his phone back up and made a quick call that he knew could possible destroy all the walls he put up to keep his secret sins locked away from the prying eyes of the public.

                “Hello, Ellen? I need to speak to Sheriff Mills.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all my readers!!! I hope that you have enjoyed this chapter as much as I have!!! I'm moving today, so not sure when I will have internet back up but will continue writing so I can post again as soon as I get it!!! Nearing the end here, hopefully have this wrapped up in a few more chapters (no guarantees though). Afterwards, I will start outlining a sequel about their recovery that will have a lot more fluff and hopefully a lot less angst. Never thought that this story would be this long when I first starting writing, but for those who have been there from the beginning, thank you for reading and sticking through this far with me and thank you for all the amazing comments!!! Will update as soon as I get a chance!!!!!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the long wait, work kept on keeping on after I finally got my wifi up, I wanted to try and finish this story before posting since it had been so long. Unfortunately, I was unable to complete it but I did pen out a few chapters. So I am posting them all at once here now for you to enjoy!

Cas! Dean wanted to scream as he saw his love pitch forward, practically lifeless as he fell to the unforgiving ground.

                “Dean, Dean, Dean.” Came that nasal reprimand from the douche that hurt _his_ Cas. “Have you learned your lesson?”

                “Fuck you.” Dean instantly spat, speckles of blood flaking his saliva as he tried to unsuccessfully stand. “You don’t fucking touch him.” He couldn’t help but add, hoping his threat was received loud and clear despite his current situation.

                “Wrong answer.” Raphael replied, looming over him. Dean instantly thought of five different ways to throw the arrogant dick onto his ass, but his body refused to respond. “Now.” Raphael continued, all but leering. “You’re not going to tell anyone about this. Because if you do, this-“ He waved over the general vicinity of Dean’s broken, bleeding, throbbing body. “Will be nothing compared to what we do to your lover-boy. Understand? Back off. And-“ His mouth twisted into that cocky sneer again, the one that knew he had Dean by the balls here. “Don’t tell anyone.”

                Dean coughed, more blood flying to choke off his reply. “Good.” Was the parting word Raphael left him with before Dean was all alone with his unconscious angel. It was all a blur after that, crawling over to the boy that had come to mean everything to him. Cradling his nearly lifeless body in his arms and pleading for him to wake up. He could feel his pulse, the whisper of breath on his neck, but those were the only signs of life. And it wasn’t nearly enough. Dean rolled over, pulling Cas’ limp body onto his chest as he used his legs to propel them agonizingly slowly towards the parking lot. Towards safety. Towards help.

                In reality, it was probably only a few minutes later (what felt like hours to Dean) before the sweet cries of his brother filled the air.

                “Dean!” Running feet pounding ever closer, his name cried louder and louder, and then there were familiar hands on him, struggling to help him.

                “No!” Dean choked out. “Cas first.” He managed to fish his keys out of his pocket while Sam grunted lifting Cas up. Half crawling and half limping, Dean followed them to his baby. Sam managed to get them both into the back seat before high-tailing it to the nearest hospital. It was spotty again after that, in and out of panic mixed pain and the soothing blackness. In the end, he couldn’t hold on any longer. The blackness won.

                The next thing Dean knew, he woke up to an annoying beeping, darkness, an aching itch all over, and the undeniable need to pee.

                “Uh.” Was all he managed to get out at first.

                “Dean?” Came a chorus of voices. Blinking in the dim light he began to comprehend, the faces of Ellen, Bobby, and Sam came into view.

                “Bathroom.” Dean managed. “I need to get to-“ He tried sitting up, realizing quickly it wasn’t the best idea.

                “Uhm.” Sam said hesitantly, not quiet looking at him. “You don’t need us to-uh-I mean the doctors-“

                “Don’t say it Sammy.” Dean grimaced, glad he hadn’t been awake for that part. He closed his eyes again, exhaustion lingering. “How long have I been out.”

                “Not too long.” Ellen cut in, gripping his hand. “Few hours. Just since this afternoon, sweetie.”

                Dean frowned. Ellen calling him sweetie. She only did that when she was worried. He must really be in bad shape. “How bad is it?”

                “Two broken ribs, three bruised, dislocated shoulder, and a bruised knee. Internal bleeding thanks to those goddamn broken ribs. Lucky Sam here got you to the hospital so fast, you idjit.” Bobby’s gruff voice swam in, his tense tone letting Dean know just how worried he was too. Dean groaned. Yeah, the odds were against him, but still. Getting beat this bad? It hurt his pride just as much as his protesting body.

                “They want to keep you here a week, Dean.” Sam said quietly. A whole week, huh? Must really, really be fucked then, Dean couldn’t help but think cynically. “Who did this to you, boy?” Bobby demanded, somehow equally quietly. He opened tired eyes to look at the worried faces of his loved ones. A sudden thought struck him as the memories came pouring back.

                “Cas! Where’s Cas? Is he alright?” Dean managed to sit up at that, only to be easily pushed back down onto the bed.

                “Cas is fine! Calm down Dean. You’re not ready for that yet. Broken ribs? Internal bleeding? Ringing any bells?” There it was, the Sam bitch-face, only slightly lessened by his concern leaking through.

                “He’s fine? He’s okay?” Dean asked hopefully. Sam looked away. Narrowing his eyes, Dean continued. “Sammy? Tell me Cas is okay.”

                “He’s a little beat up, doctors say it’s a concussion but nothing too serious. He should be released in the morning.” Ellen supplied, also looking away. Bobby found sudden interest in the window as well. Dean’s eyes narrowed even further. “Guys-“ He warned. “What aren’t you telling me.”

                “Cas called me.” Ellen continued. “He wanted to speak with Sheriff Mills.”

                “And?” Dean prompted, frustration rising.

                “And that was over two hours ago.” Ellen finally met his eyes. “She’s still with him.”

                Dean sighed, closing his eyes. This was a good thing, he tried to remind himself. But still, the threats rang in his ears, and he just kept seeing Cas lying as broken and beaten as he had been. And then, he remembered all the times Cas flinched away from touch, he remembered Zachariah cold eyes and sneering grin. He could only imagine what that bastard did to Cas. What horrors Sheriff Mills might be digging through in Cas’s past. He sighed again. Tired. He was just so tired.

                “Wake me up when Cas gets here. Or if you hear any news.”

                “Of course Dean.” Sam smiled sadly. “Just get some rest.” And rest, Dean did.

*                             *                             *

                “Hey there.” Sheriff Jody Mills smiled, hand still raised from where she knocked on the door frame. Cas smiled his smallest of grins, all he could muster at the moment. “How you feeling?” She still kept her friendly demeanor firmly in place, but worry creased her forehead. Cas had to force back a chuckle. So many people seemed to be worrying about him lately. It was unusual, but not unpleasant. His smile widened. “Better now. Painkillers work wonders.”

                She chuckled, closing the door behind her to offer privacy before pulling up a chair. “Good.” She seemed to hesitate, searching what he hoped looked like his open, honest face before continuing. “Ellen called. Said you wanted to have a little chat.”

                “Yes.” He replied firmly, never breaking eye contact. This was important, after all. This was for Dean. And he wouldn’t mess it up, consequences be damned. “I want to tell you who did this to us. I want you to lock them up and never let them so much as look at Dean ever again.”

                “Or you, right?” She said after a moment, searching him again as her smile faded. Damn, already messing this up. “Yes.” He said meekly, gaze momentarily flickering to his hands. “Or me.”

                “I can’t guarantee anything, but I can promise to do everything in my power to make sure you boys are safe and the ones who did this to you get what’s coming to them. Does that work for you?”

                “Yes Mam.” His smile slowly returned. Dean and his family trusted her, so Cas would place his faith in her as well. “I-I don’t know all their names but I do know some, and can describe the rest.”

                “Just tell me whatever you can when you’re ready.” There it was again, that friendly smile, full of warmth only a mother could possess. Cas decided he liked her. He would be able to do this. The Sheriff pulled out a notebook and dutifully recorded everything. There were only two boys Cas didn’t recognize, but from descriptions alone and Raphael’s known friends, they were confident that it wouldn’t take long for their names to surface.

                “And, was this the first attack? Or were there past altercations? The severity of both your injuries, well, it suggests past violence. Maybe something more personal?” Cas knew she was only doing her job, but this was the part he had been dreading. Closing his eyes firmly and taking a deep breath, Cas continued.

                “No, there have been past…conflicts. Nothing physical though, not with Dean. A few of them would beat me up now and then, nothing too serious honestly. But Dean, well-“ Cas smiled, remembering every moment Dean had stood between him and his tormentors. “Dean put a stop to that. He was bigger than me, stronger and more confident. I guess he sort of frightened them. He and his friends put a stop to all of that. They didn’t hurt me anymore. I didn’t-“ Cas cut off, feeling the shame redden his cheeks.

                “Didn’t what, Castiel?” She said softly, gripping his hand like she clearly knew he needed right now.

                Mustering up the rest of his courage, he opened his eyes and met hers, determination rippling through him. “I didn’t fellate them in the school bathrooms anymore.”

                She froze, clearly not expecting that. Shock softened into sympathy after a moment, no judgment or disgust whatsoever in her expression. “Did they force you to do that?”

                “No. They asked. I just did what they wanted me to. What they asked me to.”

                “Because you were afraid they would hurt you if you told them no?”

                “No, I mean… I’m not sure…” Confusion creased his brow. He didn’t think of them hurting him when they asked. He only thought of his father, and what he expected would come of refusing _him_. He had never thought of it like that before. Doubt suddenly crept in, shining through the blackness that consumed him inside. Not a whore…just afraid. Or maybe still a whore all the same. He wasn’t sure, but he would be damned if he let go of that bit of light shining through.

                “An easier question, maybe. Did you want them to do that to you, Castiel?” She leaned forward, catching his gaze. A ghost from his past overlapped her for half a second, and Cas could have sworn he saw his mother’s love in her expression. There could only be one reply to that.

                “No.” Cas breathed, soft but absolute. He suddenly felt naked, stripped bare to show how weak and afraid and alone he truly was inside. Her hand shook in his, and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t her but him that was shaking. Shaking and shivering all over as his vision blurred and tears broke free. “No, I never wanted to. Not for them. Not for any of them. But I had to! I had-They, they asked me to! Told me to! I-I-I-“

                “Shhh.” She broke him off, pulling him in for a hug. Cas hung on as tight as he could, sobbing into her shoulder and imagining he smelled his mother’s perfume instead of the leather of her jacket.

                “You didn’t deserve that. You don’t need to do that for anyone. Not if you don’t want to. Understand? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

                “But I have to!” He persisted, repeating everything that had been beat into him for as long as he could remember. “I’m-I’m broken and dirty and damned. I killed my mother and deserve nothing better. It’s my punishment, my reparation. Because she was pure and good and kind and she died because of me. What other reason am I alive for other than to suffer and serve and sin until-until I go to hell and nothing changes because it’s where I belong. It’s-It’s where-“ Sobs consumed him again, and he burrowed ever deeper into her jacket, hanging desperately onto every reassurance even as that sickly voice inside him insisted _No_ and _Sinner_ and _Damned_ at every word she spoke. But he clung to those soft assurances as he clung to her nonetheless, because he was tired of pain and tired of shame and most importantly, _Dean_ would agree with her. Cas knew he would. Because if he believed any less of the boy he loved, then there truly was no hope for him. So he cried and strived to believe in the arms of someone who reminded him so much of _her_ until there were no tears left to shed. Until there was nothing left to give and exhausted, he allowed her to lie him back so he could finally get some rest that he so longed for. The darkness crept in, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t fear the dreams he knew sleep would bring.


	23. Chapter 23

                Dean woke up again much later. Only Ellen was there now, dozing in the chair. Dean smiled, watching her snore slightly just to his right. The sun filtered through the curtains behind her, framing her body in light. She did so much for him, so much for Sammy, for Cas, for all the lonely orphans he cared about. Ellen, the mother to beat all mothers, he thought fondly. Grunting slightly, he pulled himself up as much as he could. God, what he would give to be healthy again, to just stand up and saunter over to the bathroom so he could relieve himself as anything other than an invalid. Sure, he appreciated the fact that he wasn’t wetting himself, but this…situation was degrading all the same. To him, at least. After all, Winchesters and their pride and all.

                Ellen stirred at the noise, blinking into consciousness. Dean grinned cheekily at her, waiting for the realization to sink in. She blinked a few more times before a slow smile spread as she met his gaze. “You’re awake.”

                “Yep.” Dean grinned wider, shuffling around to get more comfortable and only wincing slightly. He could feel the bandages tugging underneath the gown and sheets. His right shoulder, torso, and left leg were all wrapped snugly but not painfully tight. He gently tested his joints for movement, grimacing occasionally. Ellen watched him, resigned. She knew the type of life John raised him for, and while she may not agree with it she wasn’t going to stop Dean from assessing his damage for himself. He figured it would be a day or two before he could walk on his own again, up to a month before he was 100% again. Still, that knee of his might never fully recover. Sighing, he sank back and resigned himself to a life of always being the first to know when rain was coming thanks to a certain protesting joint.

                “Cas?” Dean asked, just as Ellen knew he would.

                “Bobby’s with him. His dad was out of town, so the doctor’s let him leave with us a few hours ago.”

                “Really?” Dean was surprised, but not disappointed in the slightest. Definitely better than hanging out in a hospital indefinitely. “Yeah.” Ellen smiled. “Shocked us too. That doctor who treated him was a family friend or something. One word from Cas and he signed the boy over to us. Still, not going to complain. The boy needed a home to go to, just happy to oblige.” Ellen smiled that smile, the one she reserved for _her kids._ Dean smiled too, knowing Cas was practically one of hers at this point too.

                “How is he?” Dean asked shyly, fidgeting in his bed. Ellen knew what Cas meant to Dean, but feelings were still a subject to be avoided in his book. She took his hand nonetheless, gripping tightly. “He’s tired. Been through a lot, if you ask me. But he’s in good hands, Dean. Couldn’t stop asking about you either. If you want my advice, don’t let this one go, Dean. I know how you were when we first got you, and I know how much that amazing kid has helped you. Just…hold on to him.”

                “I will.” Dean closed his eyes briefly, conjuring up that beautiful smile. God, was he going to hold on to that angel with all he had. “I will.” He repeated, as Ellen gripped his hand even tighter and the two sat there in comfortable silence, dreaming of the promises of the future.

*                             *                             *

                Cas held the pills in his hand, rotating his wrist so they clanked around in the jar. Michael had signed him out with Bobby and Ellen after a quick word from him. The tests he ran that morning showed that Cas was out of the danger zone and no longer needed to be observed. The pain was back, a gentle throbbing that could easily be ignored. With a sigh, Cas tucked the pills into his pocket. After all, they would be of more help later, after his father returned from business.

                “How you doing?” Ellen asked from the front seat. Sam was with Dean now, Ellen giving him a few hours alone with his brother. “I’m fine.” Cas replied, eyes fixed on the scenery passing by. Sheriff Mills had stopped by before he checked out, letting him know that they found all the boys and had them in custody. Apparently, they had bullied quite a few others who were all stepping forward now that word was out that they were in trouble. She told him that juvie was the least of their worries. With all the charges being pressed, they would be lucky to get out of being tried as adults here in about a year. Regardless of their sentence, she assured him that they would never have a chance to so much as come near him or Dean in the near future. It lifted the guilt off his chest somewhat. He considered confiding in her the rest of his troubles. Considered it for what felt like forever. But cowardice won out. He had thanked her instead, exchanging one last embrace before leaving with the Singer family.

                “You did a good thing back there.” Bobby added, face firm but a spark of…pride? Yes, there was that tiniest glimmer of pride leaking through all the worry. Cas just sighed, looking away. “I did nothing. Dean got hurt because of me. Because he stood up and tried to stop them. And I just did nothing. Always nothing…” he trailed off, closing his eyes to conjure up that image of his ruined body in the mirror in front of him. It wasn’t hard to picture, it often came to him lately. He may not be physically hurting himself anymore, but him mind seemed to pick up the razor’s slack quite easily.

                “It wasn’t nothing, Cas.” Ellen smiled, soft and sad like she had been so often lately around him. She almost never used his nickname, _Dean’s_ nickname for him. But it calmed him just the same, as she knew it would. His reflection melted away as he met her gaze, clinging to the warmth there. To the love. Who knew there was so much of it in the world, and so many people willing to share a bit with him. It may be selfish, but Cas couldn’t help but pull each and every spark of it he found in close. Her smile widened as she continued. “It took a lot of balls. Not a lot of people, and a hell lot fewer teenagers would share what you did. It took courage. You did a good thing back there. Don’t forget it.”

                “Will everyone know?” He couldn’t help that slight tremor to his voice. After all, this was what he had always feared. Everyone knowing how filthy he was. How tarnished. He could already see the disgust that was sure to come, the rejection and disdain. Ellen faltered. “It won’t be common knowledge, but yes. I’m afraid word is bound to get out.” Cas hung his head, fear churning his gut. Ellen plowed on, quick to reassure. “It wasn’t your fault, Castiel. No one here is going to judge you or look at you any different. We’re family, and we stick together no matter what.”

                “Family.” Cas breathed, looking out the window once more. He just wished it was true. “Can I really be in your family?”

                “You already are, idjit.” Bobby added on, the familiar loving insult sending a stab of happiness through Castiel before the emptiness settled back in.

                “I mean, really part of your family. Waking up next to Dean every morning and going down to breakfast with everyone. Bickering with Jo and trading books with Charlie and Sam. All the time, every day. Why can’t it be like that?”

                “Because.” Ellen looked away sadly. “You have your own family to go back to too.” And Cas nodded in resignation, because he may have a family. He may have a father and a home and siblings so far away. But that family had long ago lost the warmth of love, and now Gabriel was gone and Anna shipped away and his Father brought only pain and shame and that home he loved had turned into a prison. Swallowing the tears before they could spill, he focused on the throbbing in his head and emotionlessly changed the subject.

                “My father will come back tonight. I expect he will want to take me home.”

                “Of course. You’re welcome anytime, for as long as you need. Bobby and I have no problem with you staying a few more days, if your father is okay with it and that’s what you want.”

                “It’s what I want.” Cas mumbled, sleep curling ever closer. “But it’s not what _he_ wants.”

                Castiel spent most of the morning sleeping, waking irregularly to question about Dean’s status. Sam stopped by around lunch, bearing grilled cheese and thanks. Cas smirked, repeating again that he had done nothing, it was all Dean. Sam thanked him regardless, smiling through the cheese and toasted breadcrumbs. It was easy and familiar and everything Cas needed to ground him before they returned to the hospital to visit Dean. Butterflies attacked his stomach at the thought of seeing what shape Dean was in. What had happened to him, what was _done_ to him, all because of Cas.

                The trip there was uneventful. Cas tuned out the snippets of conversation that started and halted. It appeared he clearly wasn’t the only one worried here. One minute, Cas was watching the world flash past. Then next, it all halted in the beautiful image of that smile. That smile that still shown despite the broken body that bore it. That smile that he somehow knew was just for him.

                “Cas.” Dean breathed happily doing his best to sit up.

                “Dean.” Cas choked out, throwing himself to the bedside. He gripped Dean’s hand in his tightly, carefully avoiding all the tubes and bandages that seemed to cover his love. In reality, it wasn’t all that bad. But Cas was panicking, and panic always throws things out of proportion. “Are you okay? Please tell me you are. I’m so sorry Dean. I’m so, so-“

                “Hey.” Dean cut him off, wincing a bit to slide his other hand through the boy’s hair. “It’s okay Cas. I’m fine. I’m going to be alright.” Dean kept on reassuring him until the tears could slow. The others watched in silence, there out of love and support and smart enough to not interfere. “No need to apologize Cas. Wasn’t your fault.”

                “But it was.” Cas hiccupped. “It was all my fault. Always my fault.”

                “Don’t blame yourself Cas. You’re just like me. So stubborn and always beating yourself down. But you know what? You don’t need to anymore. Because you are the most amazing person in the whole world and I won’t quit showing you that until you believe it too. Understand? You’re awesome Cas, never forget that.”

                “Wow.” Sam couldn’t help but jump in. “They must really have you doped up. I think that could be classified as a chick-flic moment.”

                “Shut up, bitch.”

                “Jerk.” Sam snickered before sobering up and coming over to the other side. “But seriously. How are you?”

                “Ahem.” A voice interrupted from the doorway. All heads turned to the doctor standing there and Cas visibly tensed. Only Dean noticed, but the question died on his lips as the doctor continued. “I came to give you all an update on his condition.”

                “What happened to the other doctor?” Ellen frowned, staring at this new man in confusion. He had been the doctor to sign Cas out to them, not the one who had been treating Dean. The man chuckled nervously. “Dean’s gotten a bit better. I’m the one who is going to aid in his recovery.”

                Cas wanted to scream. Wanted to curse and assail the heavens with his pleas. Not him. Not Michael. No way did Cas want him anywhere near _his_ Dean. Michael may have made promises, may have sworn to be above and beyond the sins of his past, but he had still _hurt_ him. Had still used and fucked and beat and bandaged him just like all the others. Cas may trust himself in his hands, but not Dean. Never Dean.

                “Michael.” Cas stepped in before the others could question further. “May I speak with you outside?”

                “Of course, Castiel.” Michael’s gaze softened even as his shoulders tensed slightly.

                “Excuse me.” Castiel brushed off the others questioning looks before following Michael into the hallway and down to his office. Neither spoke until the door was firmly closed behind them. Only then did Cas finally let his anger burst forth. “You. Fucking. Bastard.” Cas practically growled, eyes darkening as he turned to face his former abuser. “What the hell are you playing at?”

                “P-playing at?” Michael stuttered nervously, loosening his tie as he retreated to sit behind his desk.

                “Yes. Why the hell are you, of all the doctors here, going to be treating Dean?”

                “Because I’m the best qualified.” There was the return of the familiar spark of dominance Cas remembered. The arrogance he would never forget before it lessened. “And because I meant what I said. I’m done hurting you. I’ve done so, so much wrong by you. And I may be too much of a coward to ever really fix it for you, but I want to help you where I can. And if by helping your friend, I make it up even a little bit to you, then it will be worth it. Dean is a very fit, very athletic young man, and I happen to be his best hope at ever returning to form. And I will do my best to make sure he recovers as fast and fully as I can. But if you would prefer another, then that can always be arranged as well.”

                And there it was, that punch in the gut to remind Cas that this wasn’t about him, but Dean. The anger drained from his body, and Cas sagged into the chair across from Michael. “You promise you’ll help him?”

                “I promise.” Michael replied firmly.

                “And you won’t hurt him?” Cas couldn’t help the worry, the anguish leaking through.

                “I promise I will not harm Dean.”

                Cas sagged even further, all fight gone. “Do it.” He breathed, eyes glistening as he met Michael’s regretful gaze. “Help Dean. Please.”

                “I will.” Michael replied, the two sitting there regarding the other for just a moment longer. They returned to Dean’s room, Cas quickly insisting Bobby take him back home the moment it became apparent Michael wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. Dean looked hurt, but a sweet, gentle kiss from Cas soothed the pain away. “I’ll be back soon, Dean.” Cas vowed before following Bobby out. The ride home was quiet, almost tense. Bobby knew something was up with Cas, and Cas knew that no matter how curious Bobby might be, he wasn’t going to ask questions. Bobby soon proved him wrong, as the two sat at the dining table sipping coffee and picking at the burgers Bobby picked up on the way back.

                “So what was that little freak-out about back in the hospital?” Bobby asked, carefully studying his burger. Cas sighed. Here it was, the interrogation he had been avoiding. “It was nothing.”

                “Didn’t look like nothing.” Bobby finally looked at him. Yep, no getting out of this conversation. Cas sighed, immediately discarding the notion to lie. He may tell Bobby the truth, but that doesn’t mean he has to tell him the whole truth. “My father…Zachariah….he…” Cas broke off, taking a deep breath before continuing. “He hurts me sometimes. Blames me for my mother’s death and takes his anger out on me. Michael is the one who came over to patch me up afterwards. He-he helped cover up what Zachariah was doing to me. Yes, I know he helped me, bandaged me up and ran tests to make sure nothing serious was wrong and gave me all the painkillers I needed, but he still hurt me. He hurt me by not telling someone. By covering up the damage for Zachariah so he could keep on doing it to me. I-I” Cas faltered, shame darkening his cheeks. “I didn’t want him to touch Dean. I was so scared, I don’t even know why. We talked, and he offered to get another doctor for Dean, but that would be selfish of me. Despite what he’s done, he’s still the best Doctor there. And Dean deserves the best.”

                Bobby stared at him, eyes wide in shock. “You’re saying this Michael fellow has been covering up child abuse?” He asked incredulously. Cas shrugged, pushing his burger around the plate. Bobby sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “So your dad hurts you, huh?”

                “Sometimes.” Cas evades, fixing his eyes on the table. “You know, you don’t have to stay there.” Bobby pressed on, tone softening. “What you said this morning, about being part of this family properly, that could happen. If your father is abusing you, then you don’t have to stay there. Sheriff Mills can help you. And I know for a fact that Ellen would agree with me here in saying that we would love to foster you for as long as you like. He doesn’t have to hurt you again.”

                “But he’s the only family I have left.” Cas looked up, tears shining through as he met Bobby’s gaze.

                “Let me tell you something I told Dean long ago. Family don’t end in blood, boy. But it doesn’t start there either. Family cares for you. And from what it sounds like, your father isn’t acting like he cares for you. Now, I’m not going to make your choice for you and go to Sheriff Mills. That should be a choice you make. But if even for a second, it looks like you’re in real danger, then I will do whatever it takes to get you out of there. Understand? If Zachariah hurts you one more time, I want you to let me know.”

                “I understand.” Cas frowned, confusion swimming in his mind. “You…gave me a lot to think about. Thank you Bobby. Would you mind if I had some time to think this over?”

                “Of course.” Bobby huffed, sipping his coffee. “It’s a big decision. You should think about it. Just try not to take too long. This Zachariah seems like a real piece of work. I don’t like the idea of you staying with him.”

                “Of course.” Cas said again automatically, standing and pushing his forgotten food away from him. “Would I be able to get some rest now?”

                “Sure.” Bobby waved his coffee mug in the general direction of the stairs. “You can use Dean’s bedroom. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

                “Thank you. For everything.” Cas said sincerely before heading upstairs. More and more lately, he had been picturing what life would be like without Zachariah. And now, Bobby’s words gave Cas the hope that maybe he could do it. Maybe he could have that life he so longed for. Cas lied down but didn’t sleep. He knew he wouldn’t for quite awhile. After all, he had a lot to think about. A smile graced his face as he inhaled the scent of _Dean_ that was so ingrained to the bedding. Yes, he though. He might actually be able to do this.


	24. Chapter 24

                Bobby had gone back to the hospital, so Ellen was the only one there when Zachariah came to fetch his son. Zachariah hugged him awkwardly, cooing over his son’s injuries for the benefit of Ellen before packing him into the car. As soon as they pulled away, the façade fell and the atmosphere chilled. “You fucking bastard.” Zachariah growled. “What the hell did you do? I thought you were done with that filth.”

                “I had too. They were threatening Dean.” Cas sighed, knowing instinctively that his father would go straight to the fact that he satisfied those boys, ignoring the beating and threats. Closing his eyes to focus on the pounding, Cas let himself drift just a bit. It was worse now. He considering taking the pills, but pushed them off just awhile longer. “Dean. Dean Dean. That all I ever hear from you anymore.”

                “I like Dean.” Is all Cas replied.

                “And what the hell did you say to Michael to make him turn tail like that?” Zachariah was all but seething now.

                “Nothing.” Cas felt anger rising, but wouldn’t give in to it. After all, he didn’t want to provoke Zachariah further. “He decided to stop all on his own.”

                “Oh. I’m sure he did.” Zachariah spat, speeding up. Cas finally looked at the passing scenery, frowning. “Where are we going.”

                “I have something I want to show you, son.” Was the last thing either of them said for the rest of the ride. They wound up in the forgotten part of town, full of shady dealings and abandoned warehouses. Zachariah stopped the car in front of one unparticular warehouse. It looked just like the others, nothing to make it stand out. Apparently Zachariah came here often to have this one memorized from the rest. “Follow me and keep your goddamn mouth shut.” Zachariah snapped as he climbed out.

                “Yes sir.” Cas replied wearily, following his father. There was a large lock on the door, which required not only a key but a combination to open it. It was dark inside and stank of sewage and mold. Cas wrinkled his nose as his father flipped on a light to reveal a short hallway leading to the main storage facility. Empty offices stood behind closed doors that lined the confided space. Zachariah paid them no heed, strolling purposefully towards the metal door at the end. There was another lock there similar to the one on the outside. It required a different key and a shorter combo than the other one. The awful stench grew worse, piss and shit and sweat and blood assailing his nose along with the other pleasant scents. Zachariah stopped just inside, not yet turning on the light.

                “You’ve been getting worse of late, son.”

                “Apologies, father.” Cas couldn’t help his sarcastic and slightly bitter reply. Zachariah cuffed him sharply, sending his head into bright stabs of renewed drumming. Gasping, Cas swayed slightly before standing tall once more. Zachariah continued in the same dead, yet angry tone. It was cold and distant, sending chills through Cas. “Now, I have a feeling some of your new _friends_ might have given you some doubts about us. Maybe, starting whispers in that pretty little head of yours to leave me in your rearview mirror. Now, while you might think that’s all good and well, a sweet little escape, I just want to let you know how wrong you are. How very, very wrong. Because I have friends, lots and lots of friends, and I have already let them know that if anything should happen to me, then this will be your fate.”

                With that, Zachariah flipped on the light. It flickered slowly to life, illuminating the large space. Cas couldn’t help but gasp. The whole place was full of crates and large, metal containers and cages. Inside were countless men, women, children. There was no discrimination with age or race. There had to be at least a hundred, maybe more. They were filthy and clearly malnourished. Indescribable pain and fear and hopelessness filled the faces of each and every one. Cas knew a little about human trafficking from the news, but it never seemed real until now. And it was horrible.

                “I called ahead and told the guards to take a smoke break. Once you’re in, there’s no escape. All these people aren’t really people anymore, Castiel. They are nothing. Some will become slaves, others soldiers, even the children. Yet others will become sex slaves, nothing more but pets to be kept locked away out of sight until whoever bought them decides they want a good, rough fuck. Now you, my son, are barely above them, but above them you are. See, I still fuck you when I want. Still beat you when I want. Still whore you out when I want. But I still give you a life outside that. I still allow you to go to school, and have friends, even a boyfriend, and one day when I’ve had enough of you, you will have a chance for life outside my home. You have a future with me. A chance to serve your time, pay your debt to me and God, and then move on. There? You have no future. None whatsoever. Now, you can be a good little son, and go home with me. Do what I say. Everything goes back to the way it was, and these past few months will be forgotten. Or you can continue to fight, and end up all alone a long way from everything and everyone you know except for _pain._ Your choice, Castiel.” Zachariah clapped a hand on his shoulder, gripping tightly.

                With every word, Cas felt a sharp stab inside of him, poisoning the hope that had been blooming in his chest. There was no escape, there never was. With a shock, Cas realized he was crying. Looking at all the innocent people, abducted and shipped so far away from home and loved ones. And he knew it would only get worse from here. Some would be killed, some raped, and some beaten, but all would suffer. Cas may be broken now, but if they shoved him in one of those cages, if they starved him and shipped him away, he would be utterly destroyed. Most importantly, he would never see Dean again. And that could never happen. As much as he wanted a normal life, and now as much as he wanted to help all these people, he knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t risk it.

                “Son? I’m waiting.”

                “I’ll stay.” Cas said quietly, shaking slightly.

                “What was that?” Zachariah couldn’t help but smirk.

                “I said I’ll stay. I’ll do whatever you want.”

                “Good boy.” Zachariah smiled wickedly as he turned his son to face him and pushed him to his knees. “Now, I think you know what comes next.”

                “Yes father.” Cas replied, letting the darkness consume him as he unzipped Zachariah’s pants and opened his mouth. Those painkillers would come in handy later on after all.

*                             *                             *

                Dean was able to stand, so long as he had some support. Still, it was a step in the right direction. He grinned at Sam even as his legs trembled and ached. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Sam grinned back, clapping his brother gently on the un-harmed shoulder. “Great job, Dean!”

                “I agree.” Michael smiled, scratching notes onto his sheet. Dean’s grin widened even as he sank back onto the bed. Michael scribbled a few more notes before handing Dean a sheet of paper filled with exercises. “Now.” Michael said firmly. “I want you to do this every day until you show more improvement. We will adjust your rehabilitation as you progress to accommodate your improving state. I want you to push yourself, but know your limits and just let me know if we go too far too fast. That could end up hurting you more in the long run, so don’t hesitate to speak up.”

                “Will do, doc!” Dean skimmed over the paper, mentally mapping out his schedule and how fast he thought he would be able to get through it. A knock of the door broke Dean out of his reverie. He looked up, expecting Ellen or Bobby, but was met with Cas’ tired gaze instead. The blue-eyed angel smiled at him, but it was all wrong. The light that once lit up his eyes was gone. It was like he was dead inside, and Dean felt a shiver go through him that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

                “Cas-“

                “Michael.” Cas interrupted Dean, turning to face the doctor. “May I speak with you in private?”

                “Of course, Castiel.” Michael plastered on a smile that Dean saw through in an instant. He didn’t miss the slight limp as Cas followed him out either.

                “Dean?” Sam asked when his brother continued to stare at the empty doorway.

                “Something’s wrong Sammy.” Dean frowned hard before turning to his brother. “Like, really, really wrong. I think Cas needs our help.”

                “I know.” Sam said quietly. “I heard Bobby talking to Ellen in the kitchen last night. Apperently, Cas told him that Zachariah was hurting him, just like we thought. But he wants to give Cas a chance to come forward on his own. Still, if it gets worse he said they would come forward for him. In a few weeks, if there’s no change, Ellen said she was going to step forward herself. They don’t trust Zachariah. I don’t either.”

                “Same here.” Dean growled, hitting his good hand against the mattress a few times. “Dammit Cas. Why won’t you just leave the bastard! Why won’t you let us help you!”

                “I think he’s embarrassed.” Sam said quietly, meeting his brother’s gaze. “He’s freaked enough about word getting out about, uh, well you know.” Sam couldn’t help but blush at that. “I don’t think he wants everyone to know that his father beats him too.”

                “Yeah.” Dean sighed, remembering how he hid his own father’s abuse from the world as well. Still, life was so much better now. He wished that Cas could see it to.

                “He’ll be fine, Dean. I give Ellen two, maybe three weeks max. And then Cas is out of there for good.”

                “I hope so.” Dean muttered, looking back to the doorway and wishing he could just know what the hell Cas was talking to Michael about. More importantly, he wanted to know what happened to that spark of life that had disappeared from Cas’ eyes. It was like when they first met, _worse_ than when they first met. And he wanted nothing more than to find a way to bring light to that perfect blue gaze once again.


	25. Chapter 25

                Cas stripped wordlessly once they reached the office, ignoring Michael’s protests and sharp gasps of shock. Bruises and shallow gashes adorned his torso. His ass cheeks were an abused wasteland of pale skin stained with mottled deep blues and purples and blacks. His crack and hole were red and swollen, dried tracks of blood running down his upper thighs. Wrists red and raw also sported dried blood, stuck to the heavily bandaged forearms. Turning to face him, Cas watched wordlessly as Michael’s face contorted into a pained expression. Nipples raw and chafed from the clamps Zachariah insisted on using, inverted cross still oozing blood from where Zachariah had carved it again into his skin with a knife, stomach and ribs almost hidden behind the giant bruise that had formed there. His thighs were scraped and bruised as well, but what was nothing short of a tragedy was his cock. Zachariah had heated the blade before he used it, so while there was minimal blood loss, the skin all around was red and blistered. Killer. Killer. Killer.

                “Zachariah refused to get me treatment. It seems no other doctor in the area was of your…previous persuasion.” Castiel spoke emotionlessly, tone as dead as his eyes. “Will you help me? I can’t pay, but I can do other things. Like before. It will be good I promise. Zachariah isn’t making me do this, it’s just me. Please. Help me.”

                “Castiel.” Michael choked, stepping a bit closer before faltering. He couldn’t meet his gaze. Despite his best intentions, his cock was already half-hard. Castiel smirked, but it was cold and so unlike anything Michael had seen on his face before. This was Castiel truly broken, with no hope and no will left behind. He was empty.

                Angrily, Michael turned slightly to adjust himself. It seemed his body had not forgotten what usually came next. “No Castiel. I told you I was done with that. Of course I’ll help you, but there’s no need for you to-“

                “To what, _Doctor_?” Castiel practically purred, something wild and fevered shining in his eyes as he stalked closer. “Suck you. Blow you. Pleasure you.” Castiel stood right in front of him now, mouth right next to Michael’s ear. “Fellate you.” He breathed, making sure to exhale hard enough for Michael to feel the goosebumbs rising.

                “Jesus Christ.” Michael choked, stumbling back. “What the hell happened to you?”

                Cas chuckled darkly, throwing his arms wide to gesture towards everything in general. “Life.”He continued to grin, a feral showing of teeth and gums. Michael shivered, realizing that he had just as much a part as all the other’s did in turning that sweet, innocent boy of his memory into…into _this_.

                “What happen, Castiel. What did he do to you?”

                Cas shrugged, picking at his bandages. “The usual. Beat me. Fucked me. Beat be some more. This though-“ he held up his arms, smiling almost fondly at the bandages there. “This was all my work.”

                “Jesus.” Michael whispered, horror churning his gut. Castiel wasn’t done though. That spark of insanity was back, shining brightly through dead blue eyes. “He showed me the error of my ways. My misjudgment and misplaced hope. He destroyed my faith!” A manic laugh burst forth before he continued. “Yeah, I thought my life was bad. I thought I could leave Father. But there’s worse out there. And that life of nothing could be mine for the low, low price of selling out my Father!” He was giggling again, spinning widely as he ignored the scabs reopening. “I could be a real sex-slave! I could be a child soldier. I could be a no-faced nobody somewhere far, far away. But Father wants me. I have a place here. I just needed to be reminded of it!”

                “Castiel.” Michael called soothingly, trying to bring Castiel back down from his worked up state. He didn’t like this. Didn’t like it one bit. “What are you saying?”

                “I’m saying Father is a well-connected businessman of rather…shadier dealings. And if he goes down, I’ll be shipped off before anyone knows it! They’ll never find me again!” He was chuckling again uncontrollably. A chuckle that quickly morphed to sobs. “They’ll never find me! Dean will never find me!” He choked before collapsing to the ground. Michael was there almost instantly, hands fluttering uselessly in their search for unharmed skin to caress and sooth. He settled for cradling the boys head to his chest, stroking calming fingers through the dark locks there.

                “I’m sorry, Castiel. I’m so sorry.”

                “You-you can’t tell anyone!” Castiel gasped. “Even if it’s not me who tells, it won’t matter. They’ll take me. They’ll still find me and send me away to sell me. I don’t want to be sent away. Please Michael, I-I don’t want-“

                “Shhh. It’s okay. It’s okay Castiel. No one is going to take you.”

                “It hurts.” He whimpered.

                “What hurts?” Michael pulled back to look the boy in the eyes. Face so young, but eyes so old. The spark was gone once more, it was almost like a film of _nothingness_ settled over them. “Everything.” Castiel breathed, wincing he shook more and more. That set Michael off into doctor mode. They didn’t talk much. It was clear Castiel was done talking, he reacted to commands to move this way and that, but beyond basic reaction there was nothing. Michael would have bet his entire savings that Castiel wasn’t really awake for this. He had noticed this blankness a few times before, here and there throughout the years. He may not be a psychiatrist, but even so he knew it could be nothing good. He felt his heart ache even more when he realized that this was no doubt the signs of the formation of some sort of mental illness. Even if he did move on from this life, to a better one free of abuse, he would never fully recover from what had been done to him. What Michael had helped do to him.

                “All done.” Michael sad softly after finishing tape up the last bandage, tapping the boy gently on the shoulder. He looked like the beginning of a mummy, bandages covering almost all the skin that could be easily covered by cloths. Despite the savage ferocity of the injuries, Zachariah had clearly kept enough control to not only avoid visible injury, but his precious tattooed wings as well. Castiel slowly blinked back into focus, looking around in confusion for a second before the realization that he had been cleaned up and treated sank in. He stood numbly, movement fluid thanks to the generous helping of pain killers Michael had administered. Clothed once more and looking for all the world to see a normal teenage boy, Cas thanked Michael sincerely despite the obvious lack of warmth in his gaze.

                “Anytime, Castiel.” Michael said before opening the door. “Do you want to speak with Dean?”

                “No.” Castiel sighed, dragging his feet to a stop. “Would you mind telling him I feel ill?”

                “Of course, Castiel. Stay safe.”

                Castiel nodded, not bothering to verbalize a reply before shuffling off. Michael watched him go sadly before returning to his previous patient, Dean.

                Zachariah was still waiting for him in the car. “Well?” He questioned as soon as Cas slipped into the passenger seat. “Was our dear friend...persuaded?”

                “No.” Cas deadpanned. “He treated me at no cost. Refused my advances. I apologize, Father.” Cas hung his head.

                “No worries, son!” Zachariah replied brightly. “Free care for no service? Sounds like a deal to me. Besides, I have someone lined up for you in an hour. Nothing too strenuous, just enough to add a little fluff to my pocket money, or should I say pesos.” He chuckled while Cas continued to sit silently. “You’ll like Mexico, son. I’m just getting some things finalized before we move. Shouldn’t take more than a month! Oh, but don’t worry, we’ll still visit your precious boy-toy a few times a year. So no second thoughts there.”

                “Of course not Father.” Castiel closed his eyes, leaning back. “May I rest now? I’m fairly tired.”

                “Go right ahead. I’ll wake you when we get back to the house.” There was no response, but the even breathing was enough indication to let Zachariah know his son was fast asleep. Zachariah chuckled again, exhilarated. He should have done this sooner, really. Things had gone back to just like before. Better even, in his opinion. There would be no more trouble. And if there was, well, it wasn’t like he would be sticking around to explain any sudden disappearances of his dearly beloved son to the authorities. Yes, the future was looking quite bright for one Zachariah Novak. Quite bright indeed.


	26. Chapter 26

                Dean was checking out. He could walk on his own now, granted he wouldn’t be running anywhere soon. But still, progress was progress. His body still ached, but the pain meds kept that to a minimum. He wished Cas could be here. He hadn’t seen him since that day that Cas pulled Michael aside. All the texts he sent only got the same reply.

**I’m sorry Dean. I can’t come see you right now. Yes, I’m doing fine. I just have a lot I need to think about right now.**

                Which, yeah he supposed that made sense. After all, from what he heard about what Bobby said, it would no doubt be a lot to take in. He could only hope Cas would make the right choice before it was made for him. It was just Bobby, Ellen, and Sam here to take him home. Being Christmas Eve, Charlie, Jo, and Benny were home attending to last-minute decorating and cooking. Dean grinned. This would be his and Sam’s first real Christmas he could remember. Christmas’s in motels just didn’t quite cut it. He wished that Cas could spend the day with them as well. He would be over in about an hour, but his father was picking him up at 9 PM. That only gave them a few hours together, seeing as it was already afternoon.

                “Ready to go home?” Sam asked as they signed the last of the paperwork before leaving the hospital. Dean would be back for a checkup every few days, just to make sure he was continueing to heal and recover. But for now, all Dean could think was _freedom_! “Am I ready? Is that even a question, Sammy?”

                “Shut up.” Sam grinned.

                “Bitch.”

                “Jerk.”

                “Language.” Ellen admonished good-naturedly. Dean just laughed and shrugged in apology. He was happy, and nothing could damper his mood today. Well, nothing except the memory of those dead eyes. Dean still got chills thinking about them. There was nothing right about it, and Dean knew he would do everything in his power to fix whatever had broken inside his angel. Still, less than an hour until he saw him again in what felt like forever. Grinning stupidly, Dean followed his family out to the truck, and beyond there, home.

                The living room was a chaotic mess of Christmas cheer. Plates full of freshly baked cookies scattered around the tables and the cider from the kitchen mixed to create what could only be a heavenly aroma. The tree was decorated, well, over-decorated but no one was complaining. Presents piled high underneath it, and they even cleaned out the fire place to get a healthy, cheery fire going. It was perfect.

                “Dean!” Charlie squealed, throwing herself in what had to be the gentlest hug she had ever given. “God, we were so worried about you. Glad your home!”

                “I’m glad to be home. Good to see you, Charlie.” Dean chuckled before moving on to give Jo a hug as well. They had visited in the hospital, but as visitors were limited, Sam had been the one with him most of the time.

                “Welcome home!” Jo grinned, squeezing him as tight as she dared.

                “Good to have you back, brother.” Benny smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. Dean basked in the warmth of his loved ones. All except one. Jo must have noticed his gaze wandering, because she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “Cas is on his way. I called him right before you got here. Should only be a few more minutes.”

                “Awesome.” Dean’s smiled widened, snagging the closest cookie he could reach. Groaning, Dean savored the chocolaty goodness. Hospital food wasn’t anywhere near up to par as far as Dean was concerned. And since it was the holidays, Dean felt no guilt whatsoever in snagging another two. Charlie chuckled and Dean grinned brightly through the crumbs. Yeah, they had a shitty past week. But everything was looking up now. Everything would be good.

                “Wow.” Dean breathed, finally focusing on the pile of presents. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much at once in my life.”

                “Oh, that reminds me!” Jo ran to her backpack which still resided where she left it by the door at the beginning of the break. “I found this when I cleaned out your locker. Secret admire maybe?” Jo teased, flashing what looked like a textbook snuggly wrapped in the cheesiest Christmas paper Dean had ever seen. “Great.” He groaned. “Probably a teacher’s cruel joke at getting me my homework.”

                Jo sniggered, handing it over. “Want to open it now?”

                “Nah.” Dean smiled, setting it with the rest of the gifts. “I’ll open it tomorrow.”

                The chiming of the doorbell attracted everyone’s attention. “I’ll get it!” Dean called, hobbling over as fast as he could to the door. Cas stood there, Zachariah’s car already fading from view in the background. Cas held a bouquet of roses and box of chocolates, but Dean already felt his smile fade. Cas wouldn’t look up yet, but Dean could tell that nothing had changed. He was still dead inside.

                “Cas.” Dean breathed, reaching out with trembling fingers to lift the boy’s chin. The second their eyes met, Dean felt warmth bloom inside him. There was a spark, just a spark of what he remembered in those perfect, blue eyes. “Dean.” Cas smiled, truly smiled, awkwardly shifted as he stood at the doorstep. “I missed you.”

                “You too.” Dean replied softly, leaning in to press a chaste, though long, kiss too those velvet lips. It was heaven. “Come in.” Dean blushed as he pulled back, stepping aside to make room for Cas.

                “Thank you. These are for you.” Cas looked down again out of embarrassment as he passed over the roses and chocolates. Dean had a smart remark ready, but chose instead to kiss his love again. After all, Dean could tell how fragile Cas was right now. Things may be better, but were still so far from right and he didn’t want to hurt the angel any more. Cas still fidgeted, pulling out a small box wrapped in simple red with a green bow to hand over. “This too.”

                Dean set the flowers and candy down to accept the gift. “I have something for you too.” He grinned, gesturing for the boy to follow him. It didn’t take long for Dean to find where Sam had placed the gift under the tree. Meanwhile, the others were welcoming Cas and hurrying to dig up their presents for him as well. “You didn’t have too.” Cas blushed, eying the large pile of presents all designated _To Cas_.

                “Didn’t have to?!? No way, man. You’re family, of course we had to!” Charlie all but beamed, squeezing out one more hug with Cas. Dean already knew what the presents were, having helped pick out or wrap most of them more than a week ago. Sam, Bobby, and Ellen all pitched in to get him an ipod (which just so happened to be identical to the one from Ellen which Dean would open in the morning) that Dean helped pick out music for. Jo got him blue boxing gloves for when they sparred (also identical to the ones she got for Dean), Charlie got him a variety of fantasy and sci-fi novels including The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, some of her favorite Star Wars, Harry Potter, and many others. Dean had given him the sketch book full of pictures he drew of Cas, sometimes alone and sometimes with friends. He also got him copies of all the movies they had seen together that Cas expressed interest in. He knew how Cas would light up opening them all, he only wished he could be there to see it.

                “Do you want me to open them now?” Cas asked, head doing that adorable tilt he was in the habit of. Dean almost jumped to say yes. Almost. But tradition was tradition. “Nah, you can open them tomorrow. Now c’mon, let’s get some cider and watch a Christmas movie!” And get cider they did. Everyone settled into the couch save Bobby and Ellen who were busy preparing their Christmas Eve meal, and together they watched ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.

               Dean pulled Cas in close, and together they clung to the one person who had come to mean everything to them. “I’m so sorry.” Cas whispered, burrowing his head into Dean’s neck. “I don’t blame you.” Dean reassured, rubbing his back soothingly. “I do.” Cas barely even said it, but Dean still head. He heard all the pain behind it, and had no idea what to do to help his broken angel. So he kissed the dark locks and held on tighter. “I love you.” Dean said, not even having to think about it. Because he had no doubts, and it just felt right.

                “I love you so, so much.” Cas continued, silent tears falling. “Promise me you’ll always be happy, no matter what. Even if I’m not here, promise me you’ll move on.”

                “I can’t promise that. But it doesn’t matter, because you’re not going anywhere. Hey, look at me.”Dean pulled his chin up so they could make eye contact. The spark he saw earlier was almost gone. He wanted to fight it, wanted to make Cas tell him what was really wrong so he could help. But it was Christmas Eve and they were together. Dean wouldn’t destroy their moment, not now. Instead, he kissed him as sweet and lovingly as he could. Cas curled his hands into Dean’s shirt and pulled him even closer. They didn’t watch the movie after all, instead using the time to explore each other’s mouths. It was so right but so wrong at the same time. For some reason, Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that this was Cas saying goodbye. But he refused to believe that, refused to believe that Cas would ever leave him. Dean wouldn’t let him.

                Dinner was awkward. Everyone was trying so hard to be happy, cheerful. But that dark elephant lurked over them all. All too soon the night was over and Zachariah was at the door. Bobby gave him the evil eye the whole time, but Zachariah continued to plaster on that sickly grin and fake cheer. “Time to go, son.”

                And with one last kiss, Cas was walking away from him, led by his father’s firm hand on his back. It had to be the most beautiful kiss they had ever shared, and Dean couldn’t ignore it any more. Somehow, this was goodbye. That spark was gone, dead as soon as their lips parted. And for the life of him, Dean had no idea what to do. Cas handed him one last present, an envelope he had addressed to everyone. “Open it tomorrow.” Cas mumbled, dropping his hand as he turned to leave. Dean watched him go, wishing he could make him stay. He didn’t know how. So he waved goodbye and stumbled to his room with the taste of Cas lingering in his mouth. He tossed and turned all night, but sleep didn’t come. Those eyes stayed with him until he finally slipped under, where they continued to haunt his dreams. He woke with a start, eyes raw from crying. But he did what he always did, and told himself over and over that it was alright. That everything would be alright. He told himself this until he almost believed it, and only then did he get ready for a day of what was supposed to be full of happiness and love with the family he cherished. With everyone he loved, save one blue-eyed angel. But it would be alright. It had to be alright. Because Dean couldn’t face a life without Cas. Not now. Not now that he knew what he had to lose.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***See end of chapter notes****VERY IMPORTANT*****

                Cas followed his father to the car. He didn’t even have to ask to know where they were going. The cabin. All their belongings had been packed and shipped ahead. Cas wasn’t sure when they would leave, but he knew it would be soon. Cas cried the whole time Zachariah pounded into him. Because he knew this was it. This was goodbye to the life he knew, and hello to a life that he never wanted. But Zachariah wouldn’t let him mellow in his grief for long. So he strapped him to the table and went to work on his son. He cut and burned and beat him everywhere, no longer caring to hide the abuse. And Cas continued to cry and scream for whole different reasons.

                “That’s it. That’s a good whore.” Zachariah leered, finishing his work on Cas’ cock. He saved that for last. One final reminder of who Cas was. He washed the blood off after, not bothering to dress his wounds before taking him back to bed where he once again tied Cas down. He was spread and pulled tight, only able to move his head side to side. A gag choked off his sobs, tasting foul against his tongue. And once more, Zachariah was pounding into him. Afterwards, the only thing Cas could think was _why._ He only realized he was mumbling when Zachariah asked, “What was that?”

                The gag was removed and Cas was finally able to speak. “Why? Why Father? Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, eyes swollen and shining from the beating and the tears that had flowed almost nonstop all night. “Why do you hurt me?”

                Zachariah smirked. “I’ve told you why many, many times. But I might have…left out a few facts. Would you like to know the whole story, Castiel?”

                He could only nod, unable to speak any more. So Zachariah continued, gleeful hate shining through. “You know how I loved your mother. Loved all of you. But then she died, died to save you. I was hurt, grieving, but I could live with that. Until I read her will. Turns out, she had been a bit of a whore. You see, she had an affair, only a short lived thing but then 9 months later, out you popped. She even had a DNA test to confirm that you were _his_ bastard. She didn’t want to give up the family she had, so instead she cut off all ties with him and continued to raise you with me. Making me think you were mine. After I found out, I tried to find him. But he was long gone, killed in a car crash. So I was left with you, the reminder that my whore wife cheated on me and her whore offspring stole her life. But I still kept you, because despite your father you still had your mother’s eyes. Every time I look at you, I remember her love. And every time I look at you, I remember the hurt of that betrayal. That’s why, Castiel. That’s why I hate you. That’s why I hurt you.” Zachariah kissed him violently, biting hard enough to draw blood. Cas could only whimper, unable to get away. “And that’s why I can never let you go. You are mine, Castiel. Mine!” And then the fists were there, pounding into bruised flesh. The crack of ribs breaking reverberated in Castiel’s ears. The crack of _him_ breaking echoing over and over and over. He didn’t even notice when the beating stopped. Didn’t notice Zachariah leave the room.

                A soft, warm cloth brought him back. Zachariah was cleaning him up, but there was nothing loving or remorseful about it. It was then Cas knew what he had to do. After all this time, all the years of abuse. It took him awhile to get here, but that was the last straw. Zachariah was not his family in any sense of the word, and now he was tearing him away from the only family he had known for some time. So he had to do it. Even if it meant giving up his life, he had to do it. “I’m done.”

                “What was that?” Zachariah cooed, swiping his hair back.

                “I’m done.” Cas repeated. “I’m not going to Mexico with you. You can sell me, kill me, whatever. But I’m done being your plaything. Your punching bag. I’m just done.”

                Zachariah frowned, dropping the cloth. “You’re sure?”

                “I’m sure.”

                Zachariah seethed. “Fine.” He spat. “Your done? Well then, I’m done too. Done caring for your ungrateful ass. You can rot here, broken and bloody until you starve. Then we’ll see how _done_ you are.” Then, with one last punch to his face, Zachariah was gone. Cas heard the distant sound of the car starting up and driving away as his newly broken nose throbbed and gushed blood. He was still bound, still bleeding and still hurting, but he was free. And that made all the difference in the world.

                “Dean…” he couldn’t help but moan, sobbing openly. He was stripped bare and spread wide, both physically and emotionally. He wanted to hope, to trust in Dean to find him and save him. But with a sinking heart he remembered the envelope. The one where he told them that Zachariah was taking him away, moving to a different country. How he was too much of a coward to say goodbye in person. How he loved them all and would always remember them. That letter of farewell that he spent hours agonizing over, trying to make it perfect for the ones he loved. That letter which now doomed him, because it meant that they wouldn’t go looking for him. Because his absence would be missed and mourned, but wouldn’t be suspicious in the slightest. With a sinking feeling and spike of panic, Cas realized he would die here.

                That, coupled with a painful spike of pain from his protesting ribs, sent his stomach churning and vomit gushing violently from him. He did his best to turn his head, but by then it was too late. Cas heaved for what felt like hours until there was nothing left but dry gasping and the agonizing clench of his empty stomach. His mouth was bitter and foul, nostrils full of the stench of his own half-dissolved Christmas Eve dinner. It coated his chin and cheeks, uncomfortably wet around his head. It coated his shoulders and chest, the slimy substance running down his stomach and plastered to his upper arms with an uncomfortable itch flaring to life where it tangled in his armpit hair. It burned the open cuts on his flesh, seeping into the exposed flesh. And there wasn’t a single thing Cas could do about it. He wanted to cry, felt the pang of agonizing hopelessness and pity in every cell of his being. But there was nothing left he could give. So he let that unsettling resignation settle over him in a blanket of numbness. Time passed on, flying by outside his bubble of detached indifference until, exhausted, sleep dragged him heavily into the pool of darkness. His last thought was how desperately he missed Dean, and how desperately he wished to never wake.

*                             *                             *

                Zachariah fumed the entire way to the airport. By the time he actually reached the flight line, he had marginally cooled down. Well, enough to make important business ventures. He boarded the private flight and accepted the bourbon offered him. Sipping on his drink, he pulled out his phone while waiting for the flight to take off. Pulling up a number he thought he would never call again, Zachariah hit the call button.

                “Hello, Alastair? Yes it’s me. I have a little business venture I think you might be interested in. Yes, it involves your favorite blue-eyed whore. No, I’m not suggesting anything of the sort. One night with him is much too small, you really must think bigger. Yes, I’m talking permanently. I’m about to fly now, but as soon as I land I will e-mail you the sum I expect. Once I have confirmation of the wire transfer, I will send you his location. He may be a bit worse for wear, but that never bothered you. Think we could come to some agreement? Great, I’ll be in touch.” Zachariah ended the call with a smile on his face. He may not be able to control the boy anymore, may not be able to keep him, but now he could really get something for him. And something was always better than nothing. Zachariah frowned briefly, remembering his children, his _true_ children rotting away from his grasp. But he would be fine. After all, he could always send for Anna, and boys weren’t hard to come by in his line of work. Yes, Zachariah sighed contently as he sipped his bourbon. Life was really shining for Zachariah Novak. Castiel, on the other hand. Well…Castiel was dead to him. And as far as Zachariah was concerned, dead he would stay.

*                             *                             *

                Cas woke suddenly, jerked up as far as the binding allowed before sinking back with a moan. The vomit dried and crusted, itching uncontrollably. The smell sent him into a few minutes of dry-heaving before his tired and protesting body could offer no more. He shivered violently, sweating as fever settled in. The disgustingly sweet smell of infection starting to settle in was faintly there underneath the stench of his own sick. Already he felt too hot, even as the world around his chilled his heated skin. But more than anything, he felt to tug of his bladder begging for release.

                “No, no, no.” He groaned over and over. This felt wrong and humiliating, even though no one was there to witness his plight. His face burned red, dry sobs racking his frame. He didn’t like this, didn’t want this. “Please!” He called to the empty room, not quite sure what he was begging for but begging all the same. Determined, he fought back the urge for as long as possible, moaning his pleas and spewing profanities the entire time. It wasn’t fair. It just WASN’T FAIR. “Why?” He screamed, arching off the bed in his frustration. He continued to wail, a choked sort of growl that encompassed all his pain and anger and shame and a whole swirl of emotions that clogged his throat. When he finally could hold it no longer, Cas screamed louder that he ever had. The warm liquid flowed freely, soaking the sheets even as it covered his groin and thighs. His cock ached more than he thought possible, and the pee stung the open flesh that had yet to scab over.

                Once his bladder was empty, Cas started shaking even more than before. He knew he was sick, knew he was starving and dehydrated and feverish. Before he knew it, hysterical laughter started bubbling and continued in uncontrollable fits as he watch the lights from the sunbeams dance before his eyes. He was dying, he was hurting and alone and _dying._ But still he laughed, giggling until the tears were back and he was sobbing. If he had a razor, if he wasn’t bound, he knew he would end it right there. But then a thought struck him. He could end it. There was a way.

                Fever sparkled his eyes as his mouth twisted into a mirthless grin. Sticking his tongue out as far as he could, Cas bit down. Hard. Blood spurted into his mouth, coating his lips and dripping warm down his chin. Pulling his mangled, aching tongue back into his mouth, he closed his lips as tightly as he could. After all, he should have drowned that day so, so long ago. Now he was setting things right. Now he would drown in his own blood. He focused on the feeling of his mouth filling, ignoring the thought of green eyes and a crooked smile. The blood still seeped through his lips, searching for escape. So Cas settled in to wait, wait for the blood to find its way down his throat, to clog his airway and fill his lungs. So Cas waited patiently to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this is an even bigger cliffhanger than before and for that I apologize profusely!!! Spoiler: Cas isn't going to die, I promise. But, unfortunately, I will be unable to update for the next 3 months. Due to work, for that time I will be without access to internet. However, I will keep writing. I hope to have, not only this story finished, but its sequel as well. I want to thank everyone who made it this far with me (with no lack of patience) and thank you also for the plethora of comments that keep trickling in. It means quite a lot to me, and I can never thank you enough or articulate how much I appreciate it. If you don't like waiting, then you can take this as a very sad ending and move on with your life. However, for those who wish to stick around for the remainder and a part 2, I will see you all in 3 months!!! Cheers!!!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello one and all! Sorry for the long delay, however, the story has now been completed! Thank you all for your patience and hope you enjoy the resolution of this wild ride!

“Open mine first, Dean!” Charlie bounced in her seat, handing him his wrapped gift. Dean smiled and accepted it, every one looking on happily in anticipation. This was all new for Dean and Sam, a real Christmas with a real family. But even with the delicious Christmas breakfast, the candy and cookies and Cocoa scattered around, the presents and the company of loved ones, it still wasn’t perfect. Dean felt a frown tug at his lips before he could stop it. “What’s wrong?” Charlie asked. “You haven’t even opened it yet!”

                “I don’t think it’s your present.” Sam snickered. “I think Dean misses his, what did I hear you call him? Oh, that’s right, your _angel_.”

                “Shut up.” Dean blushed. “At least I’m not bugging you about Jess right now.” And there it was, Sam’s cue to turn crimson as well.

                “Sam, stop making fun of your brother. Dean, you too.” Ellen chided before softening. “Besides, I’m sure you and Cas will be able to spend the day together tomorrow.”

                “I hope so.” Dean muttered, feeling marginally less enthusiastic about the gift now. A feeling that, thankfully, didn’t last. “Is this what I think it is?”

                “Sure is!” Charlie beamed. “I remember how interested you tried to pretend not to be when I went larping last time. Now, as queen of Moondoor, I am in need of a knight by my side. Hope you like it, I pulled a few strings and was able to, through the cousin of a girlfriend of a friend, have one of the costume designers for Lord of the Rings make that for you. It should fit, I got your measurements when you were sleeping.”

                “Awesome.” Dean beamed, holding up the costume for inspection. And awesome it was. Dean beamed and kept glancing at the outfit as the gifts continued to be exchanged around the circle before it came back to him. “Here.” Jo handed him his gift. Boxing gloves, matching the ones he helped her pick out for Cas. “So you two can match the next time you hit the gym.”

                “I love it!” Dean smiled, already picturing their next boxing session. Cas had really improved, even if he didn’t believe it himself Dean could see it. He could also see the way Cas’ cloths clung to his sweat covered, lean body, showing off his perfect ass cheeks with his flushed face and damp hair… “It’s great.” Dean coughed, trying to banish the picture before an awkward erection could make its appearance. Around again then back to Dean. Bobby got him new upholstery he promised to help Dean install for the Impala. Ellen got him a new iPod, that Sam informed him he and Cas had already picked out the music for, uploading all of his favorites. Next after that was his gift from Sam. Always the practical one, he got him two new pairs of jeans and 3 new flannels. One was maroon, because Cas said it went well with his hair, the other green, because Cas said it matched his eyes, and the last one blue, because Sam said it would match Cas’ eyes. Dean blushed again, but still hugged his brother tight. It was really starting to feel perfect, despite the nagging feeling of longing in the back of his mind.

                Unable to put it off any longer, Dean turned to the presents from Cas. He opened the box to reveal a beautiful obsidian ring, smoothed and polished to a dark gleam. Dean started at it dumbly, reverently touching the small piece of jewelry. A ring. Cas had gotten him a ring. He heard small gasps and ooo’s from the girls as he pulled it out of the box. Sam and Bobby sat there dumbly as well.

                “Oh my god, that’s beautiful!” Charlie gushed, leaning in for closer inspection. Dean passed it around for everyone to get a good look at before slipping it on. Of course, it fit perfectly. Smiling, Dean looked back into the box to find a note. Clearing his throat, he read it aloud. “Dean. With this ring, I promise to always love you. No matter where life brings us, I am yours. Always. Love, Cas.”

                “And to think all you gave him was your sketchbook full of only about a hundred pictures you drew of him and every movie that you watched together. You two really aren’t romantic at all, are you.” Jo snorted.

                “Shut up, it’s cute.” Charlie cut in.

                “Yeah, it’s adorable, isn’t it.” Sam couldn’t help but add.

                “Shut up, bitch.” Dean tried for tough, but couldn’t manage to suppress the wide grin adorning his beaming face.

                “Jerk.” Sam smiled as well.

                Dean pulled out the letter next. “Cas said this was for everyone and he wanted me to read it now. So, uh, here goes I guess.” He shrugged, opening the envelope even as he still stared at the way the light caught his new ring. It sat there on the only finger it felt right on, his left ring finger. He knew it wasn’t a proposal or anything, but it still made his heart shine with warmth all the same. Fuck PDA, if Cas was here now Dean would be giving his entire family a free, slightly-pornographic show right now.

                “Dear Family,

Because, well, that’s what you are. My family. Maybe not by blood, but a good friend and mentor recently made me realize that that’s not all that family is. And you are mine, and I love you all. Especially you, Dean. You may be my first boyfriend, my first relationship. But you are so much more than that. You are my everything, my always and forever. You saved me from depression, you pulled me back from the darkness. You stood up to my abusers at school, and suffered because of my actions with no blame or malice towards me for that. You stayed by my side and helped me when I was hurting. You are my one light in this world, Dean. And with that light, you helped more and more shine through the veil. Because of you, I have a brother in Sam. Sisters in Charlie and Jo. Parents to step in when I need someone to turn to. You gave me friends and family, and most importantly, you gave me your love. I can never thank you enough for that. Never.

                Now, I’m sure you have all heard about the talk Bobby and I had. You all suspected my father abused me. That is true, I’m afraid. Bobby gave me courage and insight, urging me to tell the authorities and leave the abuse in my past. I have thought it over, just as I said I would. Unfortunately, I am unable to do so. It’s with a heavy heart that I have to share this news with you. Zachariah is moving to Mexico, and I am going with him. I would like to live with you, in fact I want nothing more. But I can’t leave my Father. He is still my family in his own right, and it is my duty as his son to stay by his side. You have to understand, I don’t want to leave. I am happy here, with all of you. But I can’t shirk my duties any longer. I will probably already be on a flight by the time you read this. And because I am a coward and selfish, I couldn’t tell you in person. I would never have had the strength to leave if you begged me to stay, Dean. And I’m selfish because I wanted our last night together to be happy. I want to remember you like that. Zachariah has promised that we can visit a few times a year, and after high school if you will still have me then I will come back and be with you again in person. Know that I love you all, and always will. I’m sorry, everyone. Dean, please believe me when I say that I am so, so sorry. Love,

                                                                                                                                                Castiel”

                A silence hung over the room. Dean just stared at the letter, the words still sinking in. Cas was leaving. No, Cas was already gone! The paper shook in his hands and tears started to form, but still Dean fought what the letter said.

                “Dammit!” Bobby muttered. “I should have called Jody the second he told me.”

                “You did what you thought was right at the time.” Ellen tried to sooth him, but her worried expression said just how bad this really was.

                “But, why would he leave?” Sam asked, wide eyes gaping around the group.

                “His dad was hurting him.” Charlie said sadly. “He probably forced him to go.”    

                “I don’t think that’s helping.” Ellen sushed Charlie before turning to Dean. “Dean, are you alright?”

                His hands were really shaking now and he couldn’t even read the note anymore through the blur of tears falling freely. But the message was still there, repeated over and over in a mocking litany in his brain. Cas was gone. Cas was really gone.

                “No.” Dean choked out, looking up hopefully at his family. “No, no Cas wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t do this to me. He loves me! He said so, look! He gave me a ring! He wouldn’t give me a ring and then leave!”

                “Dean-“ Jo cut in.

                “No!” Dean yelled as he stood, paper falling to the floor. “No, this is all a joke. It has to be! He wouldn’t-“ Sobs choked him off, wracking through him. Everyone looked at each other with sad, worried eyes. But none of them could help him. None of them could bring Cas back.

                “It’s a just a joke. A cruel, cruel…” Dean trailed off, eyes scanning the room frantically. What for, he had no idea. But then, they landed on the final present in the pile, the only one left, the one that had been planted in his locker.

                “This must be from him!” Dean all but leapt across the room, tearing away the wrapping in a frenzy. “Cas must have given this to explain, it has to just be a joke. A bad, bad…” His words died as soon as his flipped the manila folder open. Sitting there, right on top, was a picture Dean never in his life would have imagined seeing. Never would have _wanted_ to see. Because it was the worst possible thing he could imagine, and it was his love who was suffering in it.

                Cas was on his back, ropes binding his upper and forearms to his sides so his hands flopped uselessly while his ankles were bound to the bedposts, pulling him open wide. Scars of varying age, size, and color adorned what could be seen of his naked flesh. There were bruises there as well, along with blood trailing from where the ropes cut too tight into his soft skin. Then there was Zachariah, poised above him as he was clearly in the act of fucking his son into the mattress. But what truly broke Dean’s heart was the expression on Cas’ face. It was full of pain and shame warring with a mask of indifference. A mask just like the one of _nothingness_ that Dean remembered so well. Like the one of hopelessness that went far deeper than that.

                “Dean?” Jo asked tentatively. Dean didn’t hear her.

                “Dean, you alright?” Ellen tried. Still, Dean could hear nothing through the ringing in his ears.

                “Dean, what is it?” Sam asked, reaching for the portfolio. Too late, Dean snapped back to reality. “No!” Dean shrieked, lunging for the pictures already in Sam’s grasp, only to send them spiraling to the ground. He saw flashes of pictures, spotlighting Cas in what seemed like every position enduring every pain and humiliation imaginable. Dean launched himself onto the pictures, trying frantically to cover them all. “No, you can’t see! No one can see. You can’t see him like that! It’s wrong! It’s all….Why? Why!” Dean was sobbing hysterically now, trying his best to pull all the pictures in.

                “Upstairs!” Ellen commanded, the first to react as she sent Jo, Charlie, and Sam away. Bobby was already on the phone, calling up Sheriff Jody Mills, Christmas morning be damned. There was a boy in trouble out there.

                “Dean, honey.” Ellen tried to sooth him, gently urging him to stand up.

                “No!” Dean cried. “No, you-you-you can’t see!” He hiccupped, still scrambling to pull the pictures in.

                “Dean, honey.” Ellen repeated, rubbing his back. “Those pictures are evidence. If we want to help Cas, you’re going to have to let us have those.”

                “Why?” Dean pulled back a bit, steadily avoiding looking at the images. “Why would he do that to him?”

                “I don’t know what to tell you. There are some sick people out there.”

                “But why Cas?” Dean was yelling again. “He doesn’t deserve that! Why him?”

                “I don’t know what to tell you, honey.”

                And that was the breaking point for Dean. He lifted himself off the pictures and crawled into Ellen’s waiting arms. She held him tightly, rubbing his back and calming him down like only a mother could.

                “Why didn’t he tell me?” Dean finally asked, his sobs manageable as he was all strung out by this point.

                “I’m sorry, but I think only he could answer that for you.”

                “Sheriff’s on her way.” Bobby came back in, eyes darting to the pictures before fixing themselves to the far wall.

                “I think I’m going to be sick.” Dean muttered, already pulling away in search of a toilet. Christmas music still played in the background, presents were strewn across the room and the sweet aroma of the holidays still filled the air. But Christmas was the last thing on everyone’s mind, and would be for quite some time.


	29. Chapter 29

Cas looked out the window of the tree house. The lake where he and his siblings used to play in when they were younger glistened in the distance. The same lake where Dean and their friends played in what seemed like so long ago. The forest crossed the expanse to the horizon, the houses of civilization far behind his current position. Emerald greens of millions of leaves swayed and swirled in the breeze until it settled into the all too familiar beautiful gaze of his beloved.

                “Hey, angel.” Dean grinned, flashing his perfect grin.

                “Hello, Dean.” Cas couldn’t help but smile in response. It was just like all those happy afternoons the two have spent alone in the tree house. What had been nothing more than a refuge, a harbor for memories of what was lost, had come to mean so much more. It had come to mean happiness, because it had come to mean that he would be there with Dean.

                Constellations of freckles glistened in the sunlight against an expanse of perfect tan skin as Dean leaned closer. Cas closed his eyes but could still imagine exactly what Dean must look like as soft lips brushed against his own. They kissed as chastely as they always started, like Dean was afraid of scaring him away, of pushing too far. But, just like every time, it wasn’t long before lips parted and hot breaths mingled in a soft pant. Tongues danced their way together, in time to music only they could know as they swirled and licked and explored the territory both familiar and completely foreign over and over. Warm hands both calloused and soft at once cradled his face as Dean angled their position to plunge his tongue in deeper.

                Cas was pulling at Dean’s green flannel, his favorite of Dean’s shirts, as they pushed and pulled ever closer. Cas was riding a variety of emotions and endorphins, flying high on the feelings of _Dean_. Of his taste, his smell, his touch, his everything. Before Cas knew it, Dean’s hands had snaked down to his waist before rising again, brushing his bare abdomen as they lifted his shirt with it.

                “Wait.” Cas broke their kiss and did his best not to shoot back, that all too familiar swell of panic rising inside.

                “It’s okay.” Dean smiled, resting his forehead against Cas’. “Trust me.” And with that the shirt was pulled ever higher, rising and rising until it was over his head and being pulled from his arms. The air was cool yet comfortable against his naked flesh. Cas kept his eyes firmly shut before the expression of horror and disdain he knew he would find on the face he loved so much.

                “Hey.” Dean cooed, kissing him again lightly. “It’s okay. Open your eyes, love.”

                Cas met Dean’s kind gaze, holding on to the warmth and love he found there. “You’re beautiful.” Dean smiled, eyes raking down the exposed flesh. Cas followed his gaze, gaping in awe at the unblemished expanse of pale skin pulled tight over taut muscle. Cas reverently ran his hands down his own smooth flesh, thumbs catching on his nipples as he explored himself for what seemed like the first time. Dean smirked as he pulled his own shirt off, catching Cas’ hands to hold tight as he kissed him again. Pushing forward, Dean all but straddled him as Cas fell softly to the worn floorboards. They kissed for what felt like hours like that, hands tangled together just beside Cas’ head.

                “I love you.” Cas said when Dean pulled back. He only smiled in response, focused instead on running his hands over the new territory in front of him.

                “Dean.” Cas breathed, arching his back into the touch. He reached out his own hand, only shaking slightly in anticipation of the warm, soft flesh waiting for him. The second he touched that firm chest of the man he loved is when everything went wrong. A bruise blossomed on the skin beneath his fingertips, spreading rapidly. Cas jerked his hand back as if shocked, eyes wide in horror as the discoloration spread and spread. Cuts formed and blood bubbled forth, spewing hot and sticky onto the terrified boy below. “Dean!” Cas screamed, reaching forward to stop the flow. It only got worse.

                “Hey.” Dean smiled, blood seeping through his teeth and dripping down his chin. “It’s alright. I don’t blame you, Cas.”

                “Dean!” Cas sobbed, hands scrambling uselessly across the ruined flesh that even now swiftly disintegrated to his touch.

                “Dean, Dean, Dean.” And suddenly, Zachariah was there just beyond Dean’s shoulder. “That’s all I ever hear you talk about now.”

                “No.” Cas breathed, horror hitching in his throat.

                “Hey.” Dean smiled, sending more blood spilling in a dripping stream onto Cas’ face. “It’s alright. Trust me.”

                “You ruin everything, Castiel. Everything you touch, you destroy. You kill.” Zachariah sneered, stalking forward.

                “No.” Cas cried, wishing he could close his eyes and end this horror. “Please.”

                “You really did a number on him, didn’t you son?” Zachariah chuckled, eyes like a shark raking over Dean. His perfect skin was ruined, covered in bruises and wounds and that vile crimson coating what should be whole and intact flesh. “Didn’t mean to do that, did you?”

                “No.” Cas whispered.

                “Didn’t mean to kill your mother either, did you?”

                “No, no, no, no.” Cas babbled, unable to focus beyond the horror as he prayed for it all to end. For the nightmare to cease and be wiped completely from memory.

                “He took you from me. Turned you from me.” Zachariah was running his hand down Dean’s back, sending a shudder through the boy that felt like a punch in the gut to Cas.

                “Don’t touch him!” Cas shrieked, struggling to stop Zachariah. It was useless however, with Dean keeping him pinned to the floor. Their position, first bringing joy and lust and love turned bitter and vile with terror and rage.

                “He should be punished. Just like I punish you. Or rather, punished. Punished you again and again, over and over until you took that away from me too.” Zachariah leered, hands going to his belt.

                “No.” Cas gasped, frozen in place.

                “It’s okay. I don’t blame you.” There it was again, that smile that was so wrong. Those words, once reassuring only bringing horrified pangs of guilt and pain. Hands tore at Dean’s pants, leaving them in a pile around his knees. Zachariah position himself behind Dean and began pounding in earnest. Dean’s face was right above Cas, moving with every jerk of Zachariah’s hips even as his expression remained unchanged.

                “No!” Cas howled, struggling to free himself, to leave or fight or just curl up and die, he wasn’t sure which.

                “You ruined him, Castiel.”

                Thrust.

                “I don’t blame you.”

                Thrust.

                “You ruin everything you touch.”

                Thrust.

                “It’s not your fault.”

                Thrust.

                “You should be punished.”

                Thrust.

                “Trust me.”

                Thrust.

                “You left me, Castiel.”

                Thrust.

                “It’s alright.”

                Thrust.

                “You took her from me.”

                Thrust.

                “I love you.”

                “No!” Cas screamed, bolting up as far as his bindings allowed before jerking back to the mattress. The dream was gone, replaced with the dim light of a setting sun and the stench of his own sickness and blood. The air was cold in the room, heater clearly long since shut down. He shivered, fevered skin itching and burning everywhere. His stomached ached with want to be filled, and his throat rasped like sandpaper with every breath. But still, Cas could not deny that he preferred this shit of a reality to the nightmare he had just escaped. He may be dying, may be hurting and alone, but at least he knew Dean was safe. “Dean.” He whimpered, shoving the vile memory of the nightmare as far down as he could.

                He had no idea how long he had been there, but he knew it would not be much longer. His tongue ached from where he attempted to bite it off, to end it all, but that wasn’t the cause of the blood he was coughing up now. No, that was from somewhere else, and where ever it came from couldn’t mean anything good. “Mom.” Cas rasped, the word as mangled as his tongue. It had been years since he talked to her, a habit that quickly died thanks to Zachariah’s abuse. But it was time now. Cas was ready.

“When I was little, you told me that angels were watching over me. Well, if they are then I know you are too. Because you were the perfect mother, and I don’t doubt for a second that you are with the angels now. So, if you can hear this, then I want you to know something. I just want you to know how sorry I am. You gave up your life for me, and while I’m thankful, you shouldn’t have. You really shouldn’t have. You should have let me drown.” Cas drew in a heavy, shaky breath before continuing. “It should be you who lived that day. It should be you here, living your life happy and with your family. Because, if it was me that died then Zachariah would have never snapped. Gabriel and Anna would still be here, and you would all be a family. A family that was ruined because of me.”

                More coughing and more blood before Cas plunged on. “I don’t think I have long left, mom. And I’m scared. I’m scared because I miss you so, so much. But I don’t think I’ll see you again. I’m scared that I really am going to go to hell, just like Zachariah always said. I just want to let you know before I die how truly sorry I am, and how much I love you. Just-“ dry sobs choked him off for a second before he continued. “I just love you, mom. And I’m sorry I turned out to be such a shit son. I-“ He took a breath before finishing. “I’m sorry. Goodbye, mom.”

                The light dimmed even more as the sun fully set. Already, Cas felt his eyelids dragging down, room spinning before his drowsy, fever-bright eyes. “You too, Dean.” He whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Goodbye, Dean.”


	30. Chapter 30

Dean was still in the bathroom, dry heaving for all he was worth when Sheriff Jody Mills arrived. Bobby hadn’t told her what was going on, why she needed to haul ass over on Christmas morning, just that it was bad. The second they showed her the pictures, Jody was on her phone calling in the entire Lawerence, Kansas sheriff and police force. Within an hour, the pictures had been taken to the station and one by one, the whole family was interviewed. They went to the Novak residence to find it empty save for a handful of boxes left waiting for a move that would never happen. By evening, the boxes had been searched and filed and stored away as more and more evidence was found. Jody didn’t want to tell Dean what evidence had been uncovered, but he demanded until she reluctantly relented. There were more pictures, pictures that continued to humiliate Cas. They found videos, videos of him with more than just his father. At least 30 different men so far with many more tapes to go through. All of them taking from Cas what they should never have. And then Dean was back to service with the porcelain god, offering up the water and snacks that Ellen had forced down his throat. And then the sobs were back, racking and relentless in their intensity.

                Zachariah was gone, but Cas never left with him. Half the station was working on tracking down Zachariah, while the other half focused on finding Castiel. Day one, come and gone, and Cas was still nowhere to be found. Day two lead to more evidence, more sobs and regurgitated meals, and no Cas. They had managed to find Zachariah, laid over in Texas due to bad weather. Pulling a few favors, Jody had the locals arrest him before he could leave the country and even now they were escorting him back to Kansas. A handful of the men from the videos had been identified and brought in. Michael had turned himself in that morning. But still, Cas was gone.

                Day three of restless nights and broken hearts brought Dean spiraling lower than he ever remembered. He was losing hope. Losing hope of ever seeing Cas again. Of ever holding him in his arms, kissing him, or waking up to find him fast asleep and tucked by his side. He missed Cas. Only now, he was beginning to realize that he might always miss Cas. That they would never find him, or it would be too late by the time they did. And Dean would still be here, living the rest of his life with only half a heart and a guilt and grief soaked soul until Death came to claim the ghost of what had once been Dean.

                “You okay?” Ellen asked, drawing Dean to the present. He had been sitting in bed for hours, just staring lifelessly at the wall before him. His eyes were red-rimmed and surrounded with dark, tired bags. He was paler and starting to slim down thanks to his heaving stomach. Everyone was worried, worried for both him and Cas. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was…sad. Yeah, that was it. Sad, but not like a normal sad. This was an all-encompassing, black hole of absolute shit sort of sad. And tired. He was exhausted really.

                “I miss him.” Dean finally croaked after a few minutes of Ellen patiently waiting. “I-I’m worried about him. I don’t know what to do without him.”

                “They’ll find him honey.” Ellen smiled sadly, striding over to pull Dean into a hug. “They’ll find him and bring him home to us. It’ll be alright.”

                “Any news?”Dean sniffed as he pulled away, trying somehow to be useful. To get his mind back in the game. To help Cas.

                “They have Zachariah at the station now. They’re interrogating him, but he’s not talking. They-“ Ellen hesitated, clearly debating whether or not she should tell Dean.

                “They what?” Dean asked tonelessly, too wrung out to summon the strength for proper emotions.

                “They found a few e-mails. It appears that he was trying to sell Castiel.”

                “So he’s okay then?” Dean perked up, head snapping and back straightening with hope even as rage rose at the thought of anyone selling _his_ Cas like nothing more than just a possession. Selling his love like anything less than the beautiful, living, human being he was. “He’s still alive?”

                “Yes honey. Zachariah said he’s still alive. He’s…well he’s injured. But he’s alive.”

                “Then why isn’t the bastard telling them where he is?” Dean fumed, already rising from the bed.

                “He and his lawyer are trying to work a plea bargain. A deal for a lessoned sentence in exchange for information.”

                “I don’t care!” Dean yelled, pacing the room in agitation. “Cas is out there all alone! I should be with him. I need to find him. I-“

                “Dean, honey. Sit down. There’s something else.”

                “Great. More wonderful news.” Dean snapped, collapsing onto the bed again.

                “From what they’ve found, this is much bigger than just Castiel. Zachariah was part of a very extensive human trafficking operation. It’s not just Castiel they’re looking for now. There could be dozens or even hundreds of others hidden away. Not just that, but identities and locations of those Zachariah was working with. For that information, Zachariah wants witness protection. Given the circumstances with Castiel however, well you can understand why they are reluctant to give that to him.”

                “Great.” Dean moaned, scrubbing his eyes. “It just gets worse and worse.”

                “It’ll get better. Just get some rest.”

                “I can’t sleep. Not while I know Cas is still out there somewhere. I need to find him.”

                “You will honey. You will.”

*                             *                             *

                Crowley stood outside the doors to the police station. He watched the bustle of activity, of cops running in and out, fending off the reporters that got a whiff of a story while still trying to do their job. Crowley, of course, knew exactly what the police knew and who they were looking for. The story may still be kept under wraps for the most part, but Crowley did have his connections.

                Taking one last drag of the cigarette that he may or may not be old enough to legally smoke, he snuffed the butt out on the sidewalk before purposefully walking up the steps and through the door. It was chaos inside, but he was able to maneuver the crowd until he reached the receptionist.

                “Can I help you?” The frazzled officer asked, staring pointedly at the young face before her.

                “Actually, I’m here to help you. See, I know that you are looking for information about Castiel Novak. I have no idea where he is, but I do know someone who might. You see, Bela Talbot is the one who took all those pictures that sparked this investigation. She’s known about the abuse for over a month now and kept that information from everyone, including myself. If anyone knows where he is, she might. At the very least, I imagine she could point you in the right direction. Then again, maybe she’s just as clueless as the rest of us. Either way, I personally think she should be reprimanded in some way for keeping this information from the police for so long. If she came forward straight away, then there wouldn’t be a missing boy on your hands.”

                “Bela Talbot, you say.” The officer, now fully attentive and wide-eyed wrote down the name.

                “Yes, officer.” Crowley smiled, flashing the most innocent and charming expression he could muster.

                “And you are?” She continued.

                “Fergus Crowley. I prefer to go by Crowley.”

                “Well then Crowley, would you mind coming with me to make an official statement?”

                “Of course, officer.” Crowley smiled again, following the small group of officers that had gathered further into the station. Bela betrayed Crowley when she lied to him, when she disobeyed his direct order and kept this information from him. And no one betrays Crowley and gets away with it. Sure, he would be raising suspicions against him as well, interest about all his connections and webs of information. Still, while he might get a stink eye or the softest slap of the wrist, it would be worth it to see Bela go down.

                “On another topic, I got wind of word that Bela Talbot was also involved in a robbery that happened a few months back if I remember correctly. Some of my friends are looking into it, any evidence they find I will send straight your way.” _Yes!_ Crowley beamed internally. Bela was definitely going to suffer for her silence and betrayal.


	31. Chapter 31

Castiel Novak awoke much like he was usually dragged from slumber. Namely, still restrained to a bed as his most intimate of areas was probed. It hurt more than his body was accustomed to, so it was with a small cry that he finally opened his eyes. Zachariah was as bare as Castiel himself, kneeling between the young, spread legs and spearing his fingers deep into the tight hole before him. Castiel writhed, trying to escape in vain. Tears already threatened to spill, but were held at bay with valiant effort.

                “You’re so slick son.” Zachariah beamed, as close to pride for his son as he got. “So wet. So tight.” He continued, spearing and scissoring inside the boy. Looking down, Cas paused to marvel at how smooth his skin was, vacant of so many scars he had been given over the years. He was much smaller, so much younger. It couldn’t have been more than a year after his mother’s death.

                “I can still feel my cum inside you.” Zachariah breathed, rubbing incessantly. “Oh, son. You feel so good. I’m about to make you feel so much better though.”

                “No.” Cas choked as he felt the head prodding at his entrance, even as hands moved to the bindings at his ankles. Zachariah maneuvered him so that both ankles and wrists were tied to the headboard, leaving Cas helplessly bent in half.

                “Yes!” Zachariah hissed, sliding in quick and sharp. Castiel screamed, screamed and shrieked and pleaded for it to stop.  

                “You killed her.” With a jolt, Cas stopped screaming and fixed his horror stricken eyes to the young redhead just to his left whose voice he would know anywhere.

                “Anna.” Castiel whimpered, staring helplessly at his younger sister. She was just as he remembered her from so long ago, still clutching the stuffed bear that mother bought her.

                “You killed my mom.” Anna accused, eyes cold and hard.

                “No. I-I didn’t mean-“ Cas pleaded, already feeling the heavy tug of guilt at his stomach.

                “Yes, you did.” Came the snide interruption from his right. Snapped his head, Cas looked on with ever increasing horror at Gabriel, standing there all but seething disgust as he watched on. “We were having a great time, until you came and ruined everything. It should be you in the ground, Castiel. You should have drowned and died that day. But no, momma’s boy just had to go and get mommy killed. And now everything is fucked, Castiel. Everything. And it’s your fault.”

                “I’m sorry.” Castiel was crying now, sobbing and choking with every lash of the tongue and rough thrust from Zachariah.

                “Hey there, Batman.” Came the all-too-familiar voice of a friend from long ago.

                “Balthazar.” Cas sighed, looking up to see the boy he loved so innocently as a child. “Not you too. Please, not you.”

                “Why not?” Balthazar smirked, playing with Castiel’s hair as he leaned ever closer. “C’mon. Let’s play. After all, you’re an orphan now too, just like Batman. Only, he wasn’t a whore. But still, you could never resist me, could you.”

                “Please.” Cas pleaded, although he had no idea what for.

                “Well, since you asked so nicely.” And then there were cold lips on his own, a slimy, freezing tongue snaking inside his mouth. Castiel choked, gasping for air that was quickly evaporating. And then there was blackness, frozen and wet and snaking everywhere, erasing everything. He was drowning. Cold and alone and afraid and dying. There was nothing left, no hope of life or love or salvation. And then there was the light. The warm touch of a mother’s hand pulling him from the depths. Castiel gasped in the fresh air, breathing life back into his lungs.

                “Castiel!” His mother’s worried voice called from behind him.

                “Mom!” Cas cried, shaking in her hold.

                “It’s okay, son.” She soothed. “I’ve got you.” Castiel felt her grip shift, felt her prepare to thrust him to safety.

                “Mom, no!” Cas screamed, trying to warn her. But it was too late. The rock quickly met Cas’ small frame as he sailed out of the water. Grabbing onto the lifeline, Cas quickly scrambled up and turned to help his mother out as well. But it was no use. Already, he saw the cloud of red spreading from her head where she hit it on the rocks hidden just under the surface.

                “Mom!” Cas shrieked, reaching helplessly into the water even as the current carried he body further and further from his reach.

                “Mom!” Castiel screamed again, crying and straining at the binds as he thrashed in short jerks into wakefulness. The dream was gone, but the pain of the memories remained. The empty room seemed to taunt him, echoing back nothing but his dry sobs. It was colder than he remembered, darker as well. Perhaps it was evening. Or maybe his vision was starting to fade. Cas didn’t know, nor did he care. There was nothing left for him. Nothing but pain and his ever approaching death. Cas didn’t talk anymore, his throat burned and his fevered mind slipped and slid away from anything approaching coherent. But mostly, he just had nothing left to say. He had already accepted his end. All that was left was to wait. _Not much longer now,_ Cas thought, alone with those four words bouncing around his head again and again in a dizzying swirl until the room once again faded and Cas saw nothing but the light and dark and swirls of seamless colors dancing and twisting in time with the painful churning of his empty stomach.

                _Not much longer now._ And with that the sobs broke into crazed, choked laughter as Cas smiled and watched the madness behind his eyelids. Not much longer now.

*                             *                             *

                “Gabe, the phone is ringing!” Balthazar called from his sprawled position on the recliner, making sure to put that upward tilt in pitch on the last word that Gabriel always pretends to hate.

                “I’m not deaf, Sebastian.” Gabriel shot him his patented long-suffering, sarcastic face.

                “Then answer it.” Balthazar shot back.

                “But Doctor Sexy is on!” Gabriel whined.

                “It’s your house.” Balthazar grinned, knowing he had already won.

                “Fine.” Gabriel growled as he rose from the couch, grumbling the whole way to the kitchen while Balthazar chuckled. Settling in, Balthazar returned his attention to the screen. Not five minutes had passed before Gabriel was back, face white as a sheet and eyes troubled.

                “What’s wrong?” Balthazar immediately sat up, knowing that it wouldn’t be anything good.

                “Balthazar.” Gabriel’s voice shook.

                “Uh-oh. You never use my first name. What is it? What’s happened?”

                “We need to go to Lawerence. Now.”

                “Why?”

                “It’s all fucked up. Fuck, why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I know?” Gabriel finally broke, tears spilling at an ever increasing pace.

                “Hey, hey Gabe calm down. Just tell me everything.” Balthazar did his best to sooth his friend, rushing over to pull him to the couch so he could sit before his shaking legs collapsed under him.

                “It’s Castiel.” Gabe choked. “He’s….H-he’s missing. He…uh, well it was Zachariah. It’s some bad shit, Balthazar. Real, real bad shit. Zachariah was…oh god I’m going to puke.” Gabriel shivered, nose wrinkling up as his face paled even more.

                “Here, I’ll grab the trashcan. Just hold on.” Balthazar shot up, running to grab their wastebasket, returning to Gabe just in time. “Fuck. Cassie is really missing? God, I mean….just fuck!” Balthazar punched the couch cushion, feeling not one ounce better afterwards. It had been years since he had seen Castiel, back in elementary school when everything was simple and the dark-haired, blue-eyed boy kissed him when they played house or batman or any other game they came up with. But then his and Gabe’s mom died, and everything starting sliding downhill. Cas was withdrawn, so sad and scared. Then he didn’t want to play anymore. Then he didn’t want to do anything anymore. And then Balthazar’s parents moved back to England, taking Balthazar with them. It wasn’t until middle school that Balthazar returned to America, New York this time to live with his grandparents when his parents got into some financial trouble. A few months later, he ran into Gabriel. Gabe had already set himself up pretty good, connections he had made and hard work earning him spots in art galleries even though he was still in college. When Balthazar started high school, the two of them moved in together. They were inseperatable, best of friends almost instantly. That was two years ago, and thanks to his high GPA and previous grades skipped, Balthazar was already a junior at only 16. The past few months, they had gotten closer and closer until it was obvious that there was more than friendship there. However, due to the age difference they both agreed to wait until Balthazar was of legal age before they pursued their possible relationship further. Since that decision, the two of them had talked less and less about the past. About Cas. But there was no more running from it now. No more awkward silences and halted sentences of regret. Because they both knew that Cas was alone, that Gabriel left him alone when he fled that hateful house and loveless father. But the past had caught up to them both, and there was no more running to be done now.

                “Here.” Balthazar grit out, gearing himself for action as he passed Gabriel his laptop. “Get the plane tickets. I’ll pack our bags. We better fucking be there by morning.”

                “Balth.” Gabe whimpered, looking up helplessly. “They said he’s been missing for almost three days now.”

                Meeting his eyes and gritting his teeth, Balthazar managed to snap. “We get there by morning. And this time, neither of us are leaving him.” Before fleeing to the bedroom to pack and sob and scream until maybe the guilt and worry wouldn’t choke him anymore. Until maybe he believed that Cas was safe. That maybe Castiel was still alive. And god, did he pray with every ounce of his being that Cas was still alive. “Hold on, Cassie.” He whispered to the empty room, half smiling at the memory of his pet name for his old best friend before reality crashed down on his mind and crumpling his frame once again. “Just hold on a little longer. We’re coming for you.”

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

Eighty-one hours. That’s how long it’s been since he and Cas shared their last kiss. Eighty-one hours of god knows what happening to Cas while Dean worried and waited uselessly. Eighty-one hours that Cas could have already been dead for all Dean know. Eighty-one hours too long.

                “Dean.” Sam called softly from the door.

                “Go away, Sam.” Dean replied lifelessly. “I don’t care if breakfast is ready. I’m not hungry.”

                “Dean.” Sam tried again, even gentler as he walked into the room. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. It’s killing you, and we both know Cas wouldn’t want you to be like this.”

                “Yeah.” Dean huffed. “Well Cas isn’t here anymore. Stop kidding yourself, Sam. He’s not coming back, is he.”

                “You don’t believe that.” Sam was working his concerned face at 1000%. That face which meant that Dean wasn’t getting out of whatever heart-to-heart Sam wanted to have.

                “What else is there to believe? You’re smart. I’m sure you know the statistics. It’s been eighty-one hours now. The chances that he’s still alive, still okay, they’re…” Dean couldn’t finish, just closed his eyes tight against the tears leaking out.

                “I don’t believe that, okay. I can’t believe that. We both know Cas, we know how much shit he’s been through. Cas is strong. He’s a fighter. We can’t give up hope until we find him.”

                “Think what you want, Sam.” Dean sighed. “But hope is bullshit. All it does is make the pain worse in the end.”

                “You know what, Dean.” Sam cracked, irritation leaking through. “That’s bullshit. You can’t waste away like this. It’s a shitty thing that you’re doing not only to yourself, but to all of us. And not just here in this house. Cas too. If you were out there, lost and alone, he would tear apart this world to find you. To save you. And here you are, willowing away in your own pity. It’s fucked up, Dean. Cas deserves better.”

                “I know.” Dean admitted after a few moments of silence. “But I don’t know what to do.”

                “You find him.” Sam continued, convinced. “You remember him, you remember every happy moment and every shit moment you ever had with him. You relive it all, and look for any hint that might take you to him.”

                Dean thought for a moment. Thought about Cas, about everything about him. He did remember, he could never forget those blissful moments with his angel. Smiling, Dean remembered when Cas first showed him the tree house. He remembered every afternoon spent there. “I know where we have to go, Sam.”

                “Great.” Sam smiled. “I’ll grab breakfast.”

                “It’s six in the morning.” Dean fumbled to joke. “Can’t believe people eat this early. Awesome!” Dean really tried to come off like his old self, but it just sounded hollow. Sam smiled sadly before heading for the kitchen. “We’ll find him, Dean. We will.”

                “I hope so.” Dean sighed to the empty room before getting dressed. The drive was uneventful, Dean felt jittery and tired at the same time. Sam wasn’t the same either, and Dean could tell how worried he was as well. Passing Cas’ house, Dean felt a queasy turn of his stomach. Those pictures would forever be burned into his brain, and with every new disgusting and hateful deed that Dean learned had been done to Cas…well his imagination could do the rest.

                “Here we go.” Dean gritted his teeth as the car came to a stop. On the way to the tree house, Dean couldn’t stand the silence any longer. So he told Sam everything Cas had told him. Even after they made their way up the ladder and sat in the suddenly cold and cramped tree house, Dean continued on. Recounted everything they had ever done here, leaving out the graphic details out of respect for his brother’s virgin ears.

                “It’s so different, now.” Dean sighed, running out of road down memory lane. “It’s like Cas brought all the warmth here with him. Now it’s just, well, it’s just an old, drafty tree house.”

                “I’m sorry.” Sam nudged Dean’s leg, driving home how much he really cared for him.

                “Thanks.” Dean smiled sadly. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Sammy.”

                “No chick flick moments.” Sam smiled back.

                “I mean it. You know I don’t like talking about stuff like this a lot. But…I missed a lot of things with Cas, you know? Things that I never said because I always thought I could tell him tomorrow. You helped me through a lot. With mom, even though you were so little. You made me, I don’t know, you made me happy. Useful. You were my brother and it was my duty to keep you safe. After dad, you were still there for me. And now, here you are dragging my ass out of bed to look for Cas.”

                “I care about him too, Dean. Cas is family. Trust me, Dean. We’ll get your boyfriend back.”

                “Yeah.” Dean smiled. “I really hope we do. I need him, Sammy.”

                “I know.” Sam huffed, standing to look around. “Hey.” Sam called. “Is this the trunk you said Cas kept the journal in?”

                “Yeah.” Dean stood as well, walking over to run his fingers over the worn trunk.

                “We need to get in!” Sam clearly perked up. “Maybe there’s more information in there. We know he went to a cabin with Zachariah, right? But the police haven’t found any record of him owning a cabin. I just remembered, something Cas said awhile back. He talked about the possibility of moving, something to do with gambling? I don’t know. Anyways, he said he would leave where to find him in the journal, addresses and stuff like that. Think it’s still in there?”

                Now it was Dean’s turn to perk up. “Cas told you he was leaving and you didn’t tell me? No-never mind that, we’ll talk later. But addresses? You just might be right.” Dean instantly went to picking the lock. Usually, he would feel bad about reading Cas’ journal. But with all the shit that had come up and with Cas’ life on the line, Dean couldn’t give any less of a shit.

                “Here it is!” Dean held it up triumphantly before sobering up. “You know, this was actually his mom’s. She died before she got a chance to use it.”

                “I’m sorry.” Sam shuffled awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

                “Don’t apologize to me, Sammy.” Dean sighed. “It’s Cas who got stuck with the shit end of the straw.” Dean took a few deep breaths, steadying himself before plunging in. “Alright. Let’s see if Cas left us anything.”

                Dean flipped through the journal, growing paler and paler with every page he skimmed. “Shit.” Dean cursed, taking a break from the horror told in those pages.

                “What is it?” Sam asked, forehead wrinkled in concern.

                “Do you know when that bastard hit him for the first time? Right after his mom’s funeral! Who the fuck does that to a kid who just lost his mom? That’s…that’s not even the worst.” Dean choked a bit, torn between anger and the sick feeling of the knowledge of everything that was done to his angel. “It was only a month later when he raped him, Sam. Cas was seven. Fucking seven years old. He was only eight when Zachariah started making him do… _it.”_ Dean couldn’t help but spit out that word with as much venom as possible. “Eight years old and that fucking bastard was selling him to whatever pedophile would take him for the night.”

                “Shit.” Sam breathed.

                “Yeah, fucking shit!” Dean was yelling now, fury burning out of control. “And his fucking uncle found out too. Not even a full year later. Cas was nine years old, and what does his no-good, fucking shithole uncle do? He wants a turn with his nephew in exchange for his silence. That’s…that’s half his life that Cas has been raped and abused and beaten and tortured and…” Dean couldn’t continue, tears flowing and gut full of churning anger and pain and sorrow for all the pain his beloved had gone through. “So many people, hurting him. Raping him. And not one of them told anyone. Stopped it. He was a child, Sam. And those sick fucks…” Dean trailed off, halting that train of thought. “No wonder he didn’t tell us.” Dean said after his tears had slowed. “He probably doesn’t remember anything else.”

                “He had good memories too, Dean.” Sam tried to comfort.

                “Yeah.” Dean scoffed. “Like what.”

                “You.” Sam continued, waiting patiently for Dean to look up before continuing. “He was always so happy around you, Dean. You…it was like you were the whole world for him, Dean. I’ve never seen someone love so wholly and fiercely. It, well, it was beautiful.”

                “Yeah.” Dean smiled. “He was.” The two sat in silence for a few moments before Dean felt a chill go through him as realization settled in. “Sam.” He looked up, eyes full of sadness and pain. “When did we start talking about Cas in the past tense. Like he’s really gone for good.”

                Sam set his jaw, eyes full of determination. “He’s not. Here, let’s go back to the car. You drive, I read. He said the addresses would be in here. Let’s see if we can find them or anything else helpful.”

                “Alright.” Dean wiped his eyes and stood, heading back to the Impala. He instantly drove towards the nearest area that could possibly hold cabins. Even if they had to go cabin to cabin, Dean would be damned if he left one corner of the area unsearched. He was finally doing something to find Cas, and he wouldn’t stop until Cas was found. Sam read, eyes full of compassion for his friend and rage at those who wronged him. Page after page, Sam flipped through with ever-increasing vehemence, desperate for a lead.

                “Dean!” Sam exclaimed after what felt like hours. “I think I found it!”

                “What!” Dean jerked his eyes over before turning his attention back to the road. “What did you find?”

                “An address. Here, Cas wrote, ‘Most people don’t know what hell is. I know. It’s where father takes me to truly punish me for my sins. It may not be fire and brimstone, but 1171 Forest Road is as close to hell as it gets. We did it, Dean!”

                “My phone is in the glove compartment. Call Jody, let her know what we found.” Dean gripped the wheel tight. Hope. He really had hope again.

                “Dammit.” Sam grunted, holding the phone high. “No signal. Dean, we need to turn around.”

                “No fucking way.” Dean growled. “Grab the map, Sam. We turn back that could be another hour or more that Cas is stuck there. No, we call on the way back.”

                “Okay.” Sam fumbled for the map, quickly scanning to pick out their position and find the fastest route to the cabin. Dean floored it, bleeding every ounce of speed out of his baby as he could. “Hold on, Cas. We’re coming.”

                Ten minutes of tense silence and muttered directions brought them to a gravel turn-off in the middle of nowhere. A mile into the forest brought them to a small clearing housing the most hateful cabin Dean thought he had ever seen. Dean killed the engine and tumbled out of the car in one fluid motion. Sam was quick to follow.

                “Cas!” Dean yelled, pounding on the front door. “Cas, are you there?” No answer. “Cas!” Dean was near hysterical, beating on the door with everything he had.

                “Maybe we were wrong, Dean?” Sam tried after a few minutes of nothing but silence as a reply.

                “No, no I need to get in there.” Dean instantly went to pick the lock.

                “Dean, stop! If we are wrong then this is breaking and entering!”

                “I don’t care, Sammy! It’s Cas!” Dean fought the tears as much as he could, but his emotions were all over the place at this point, and the past few days felt like they had drained every ounce of sanity and control from him.

                “Okay.” Sam held up his hands in surrender. “At least make sure first.”

                “Windows.” Dean lit up, for once thankful of his upbringing. “You go right, I’ll take the left side. Check every window, we’ll meet up in back.”

                “Got it.” Sam nodded once before the brothers went their separate ways. There really wasn’t much in the way of windows, and most were blocked off by curtains. Dean caught a glimpse of a kitchen and a whole lot of fabric and really nothing else. He was just starting to get hysterical again when he saw him.

                “Cas.” Dean breathed, instantly frozen with his heart thrumming painfully away. There Cas lay, strapped to a bed and fully exposed. Blood and Dean didn’t want to know what else coated him. There were bruises and cuts everywhere, along with the puffy sickening yellow of infection. Dean saw the scars, saw the burns and lacerations. Thin slivers of bone poked through the wasteland of red flesh on the left leg, the other bruised and skin cracked and broken from the knee down. Cas’ face was puffy and purpled, both eyes swollen nearly shut with a large gash on his forehead coupled with smaller scraps on his cheeks and chin. Both his shoulders were jutting out awkwardly. Dean would bet everything he had that Cas dislocated them at some point as he struggled to free himself. It was so much worse than everything Dean had imagined. “Cas!” Dean cried louder before turning to sprint back for the door. “Sam, get over here. Cas is in there. Sam, hurry!” Dean screamed, not even bothering with the lock before he kicked down the door. Sam was right behind him, shoulders tense and face creased with worry. “He’s hurt real bad. See if you can grab some blankets.”

                “On it.” Sam quickly grabbed every blanket and comforter he could find. Dean bee lined it towards the room at the back. There Cas was, just as Dean had seen him from the window. It was so much worse in here, so much more _real._ The stench was over-powering, air cold and stagnant. Cas was bound to the bed, limbs spread and flesh bare save the blood and sick dried all over him. His eyes were closed, chest barely heaving in breath. He was much paler than Dean had ever seen him before, flesh sunken in and bones showing freely beneath his skin. The air was ripe with sickness and vomit and piss. Flies had already started swarming the bed, and if not for that subtle rise of breath Dean would swear that they had gotten there too late.

                “Cas.” Dean cried, no longer caring. Taking out his knife, Dean cut his angel free. Despite the chill, Cas burned fever-hot in his grasp. “Cas, wake up.” Dean pleaded, lightly shaking his friend. Nothing. “Cas, please open your eyes. Please. I’m here, Cas. It’s all going to be alright now.”

                “Dean.” Sam stumbled into the room, arms full of blankets before freezing at the sight in front of him. There was no denying the look of complete horror on his face as he took in the scene. Coughing, Sam played it off with a quick, “It stinks in here.” Before helping his brother wrap Castiel tightly in a cocoon of blankets.

                “I’m going to kill him.” Dean seethed, picking Cas up once they were done to carry him back to the car. Sam didn’t have to ask to know who Dean was talking about. “I’ll help.” Is all he said, but the fire behind his eyes spoke volumes. Sam drove, Dean cradling Cas in the backseat. It would be at least half an hour before they got signal again, and another twenty minutes to the hospital. Dean thanked whoever was up there that he came out with a full tank.

                The ride was quiet, Dean muttering everything and nothing to the boy in his arms, constantly touching and holding and just reveling in the fact that Cas was here and _alive_. The life was barely there, but he was still alive.

                “Yes, signal!” Dean smiled as the bar appeared on his phone, instantly dialing the sheriff. He quickly explained everything, giving her their location. Within ten minutes, they had a police escort taking them to the hospital.

                “Almost there, Cas. Just hang on a little longer.” Dean brushed the greasy locks away from the pale forehead. He still couldn’t get over the blood, dried and clumped and seemingly everywhere. Dean had absentmindedly picked bits of vomit away from Cas’ dried and chapped lips, not sure what more he could do. He knew Cas needed water badly, but there was nothing in the car. They would have to wait for the hospital.

                “Five more minutes.” Sam called from the front seat, eyes glued to the road.

                “Just five more minutes.” Dean repeated, continuing to gently caress his love’s face, avoiding the injuries as best he could. His skin was just so hot, like he was burning up from the inside out. Pulling one eyelid back, Dean was met with nothing but glazed white. Cas began trembling, the first movement Dean had seen.

                “It’s okay.” Dean cooed. “Not much longer now.” Pulling Cas in close, Dean held him tight as trembling quickly turned into spasms.

                “Hurry, Sam!” Dean called, worry creeping back in.

                “I’m going as fast as I can!” Sam shot back. “Just a few more blocks. Two more minutes top.”

                “Cas. Cas it’s okay!” Dean held the shaking figure, no idea what else to do. The spasms continued, increasing in trembling violence until they just stopped. Dean felt the hot exhale by his ear, frozen in shock as he waited for the inhale that never came.

                Panic rising, Dean instantly sat back and searched the face of the one he had come to love so much. “Cas?!?” Dean whispered, hand hovered over the still lips in search of breath. Nothing. Plunging his hand into the blankets, Dean felt Cas’ neck for a pulse. Nothing. Wrist. Nothing. His skin still felt scorching hot, but all signs of life were gone. Cas was gone.

                “No. No!” Dean screamed, scrambling to hold on to Cas. “No, no you can’t do this. Breath, Cas. Breath!”

                “He’s not breathing?” Dean could hear the hitch of panic in Sam’s voice.

                “I can’t find a pulse!” Dean cried, clutching the cooling face in his hands. “Cas!” Dean rested his forehead against his angel’s, not even thinking of the blood or sick anymore. “Cas.” He whimpered, words as gone as the beat of Castiel’s heart. “Cas, you can’t be gone. You can’t. I saved you. I found you, Cas. Please, just…come back to me. Cas. I need you.”

                “We’re here.” Sam called from the front, turning into the hospital parking lot. Dean didn’t hear. Didn’t see or feel the hands that pried Cas from him. Didn’t notice being steered into the waiting room. All he could see was Cas, pale and still. Feel that fire dying beneath his hands. Hear that final exhale. “Cas!” Dean screamed, over and over into the void that had filled his mind. There was no reply.

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

Castiel opened his tired eyes to the room before him once more. His delirium had increased drastically, as he watched the shapes and colors sway and blur in maddening fury. He felt heavy, as if gravity had strengthened its force on him while he slept. Everything burned and ached in a way he had grown far to intimate with. Cas knew it was so close to being over. Still, he could see the green of Dean’s eyes in the foliage. Could feel the heat of his skin in the warmth of the sunlight. He owed it to Dean to try. All earlier attempts at escape forgotten, Cas went about pulling at his bindings once more.

                His right leg twinged painfully when he jerked it, tendons and muscles strained and abused for far too long while his knee screamed its pain in hot flashes. His left leg sent a howl of agony up his frame and out his dry throat at its first movement. With a flash, Cas remembered his punishment. Remembered the hammer coming down on his shin and the sharp crack he heard. Definitely fractured, if not broken.

                Taking a few deep breaths, Cas steadied himself once more before lunging up, pulling and straining with everything left in him. He felt a slight give before a loud POP sent his ears ringing and stomach heaving. Crying out, he instinctively turned in on his injured shoulder, the sharp movement tearing his other shoulder out of its socket as well. Cas choked and heaved and cried nothing but the smallest trickle of tears for what felt like hours. It wasn’t until the pain faded into the hazy background that he could regain any semblance of control over his breathing. It was truly over. He wasn’t getting out.

                “I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas mouthed, voice gone. A fly brought focus to his attention once more, mind wandering as aimlessly as the insects’ flight. The fever burned bright and hot, and Cas smiled into the inferno. Still, fear has a way of creeping up. Regret, longing, shame, panic; all rising and demanding their screams be heard.

                ‘I know.’ Cas wanted to say. ‘I’m sorry. I’m scared. I don’t want to die alone.’ The thoughts and pleas merged in his mind into a single plea of _no, please no._ But the clock was ticking and Death was knocking. Pounding and drumming away, Cas knew it wouldn’t be long before he had to open the door. The day bled on, sun rising and birds singing unknown and unheard to the boy slipping away in the woods.

                A movement caught his eye as the light dimmed into shadow. Looking on, too tired to move his head, Cas saw what he never thought he would see again. There Dean stood, haloed in light and shining bright as an angel. Cas tried to smile, but even that was beyond him. One slow blink, and the glorious mirage was gone. “Dean.” Cas called fondly in his mind. It was truly time. That was all he needed to face what was beyond the door in his mind. To erase his fears and everything holding him back. The image of Dean fixed firmly in his sight, Cas opened the door and fell. His eyes closed as he plunged, down and down until the darkness of the abyss consumed him. Down and down until there was nothing.

*                             *                             *

                The motel was modest, nothing flashy but not the flea-ridden, pay-by-the-hour sort either. Just a nice place to stay for awhile without breaking the bank.

                “I fucked up, Sebastian.” Gabriel sighed. “I should have never left him. I should have known…”

                “Hey, Gabe.” Balthazar soothed, rubbing his friend’s back as they carried their bags into their temporary home. “It wasn’t your fault. No one knew. No one blames you.”

                “I blame me.” Gabriel scrunched his nose in disgust. “Looking back, I think I might have known. I mean, I lived in the same house. How could I not know? I don’t know.” Gabriel sighed, deflating with a flush of exhaustion. “It’s all fucked.”

                “Hey, you told me that you gave him a choice, right? You offered to take him with you. He’s the one who turned you down.” Balthazar went to unpacking quickly while Gabriel changed out of his travel soiled cloths.

                “Yeah. He said he couldn’t leave that bastard of a father. I always thought…I thought he was the favorite, you know? Him and Zachariah always together, Castiel following every order like a god-given command. I was jealous, angry even. By the time Castiel hit middle school, I had stopped even offering to take him out for ice cream or shit like I did with Anna. I didn’t even think about how much shit he had to be going through. I didn’t even see him make a friend after you left. But I just ignored it all, wallowed in my own little self-pity and let my little brother’s life go to complete shit. I should have fought him harder. I mean, dad hit all of us when he got mad or drank too much. Castiel just took it every time. Didn’t get upset like Anna, didn’t get mad like me. It was like he just _absorbed_ it all. Turns out he just had more practice.” Gabriel felt the tears calling, felt his stomach turning. “The bastard fucking _raped_ him for crying out loud!”

                “There was nothing you could do. You didn’t know.”

                “Yeah, well I know now. And I have a lifetime of shitty brotherly behavior to make up for.”

                “You will.” Balthazar smiled. “We both have shit to make up for. Castiel will never be alone again. We’ll make sure of that.”

                “If he’s still even alive.” Gabe sighed. “If he even wants to see me. Us. It’s been months since I’ve called. Years since I’ve seen him.”

                “You’ll see him again. C’mon.” Balthazar urged Gabriel out the door. “Let’s go to the station.”

                The drive was uneventful, and the information the police had for them unhelpful once they arrived. Gabriel knew that Zachariah had won a cabin many years ago in the prime of his gambling addiction, but no paperwork was found to trace any address back to him. And as Zachariah had only ever taken Castiel there, he had no idea where it was either.

                They started asking questions about what life was like when Gabriel still lived there, trying to piece together anything to get them more information. Perhaps names of fellow human traffickers, or whereabouts of their criminal doings. Gabriel had nothing for them. Given their relationship, coupled with shared contempt and disdain, Gabriel had no real hold on Zachariah’s life outside the abuse he dealt his children.

                “Hate to interrupt.” Balthazar crept back into the room. “But that was just Anna on the phone. They were able to get her onto the flight with the information you sent. She should be here by morning.”

                “Thank God.” Gabriel breathed. Finally, something going right it seemed. “Wait.” Gabriel felt a sick twist in his stomach as he jerked up with paling face and clammy hands. “You don’t think he was…was raping her as well?”

                “We, haven’t ruled it out given the sadistic nature and pedophiliac tendencies. However, there is no evidence to support it, and she was sent away to boarding schools. It seems your father’s focus was wholly on the abuse of Castiel.”

                “Don’t call him that.” Gabriel spat, angry. “He’s not my father, he lost the right to call himself that long ago. I lost my father the same day my mother died. The man left behind was nothing of the man he was.”

                “My apologies.” Jody sighed, flipping through paperwork once more, looking for any lead. “It won’t happen again.”

                “It’s not your fault.” Gabriel sighed. “I’m sorry for snapping like that.”

                “Here.” Balthazar handed Gabe a coffee. “Mocha, with a diabetic amount of sugar. Just the way I know you like it, Gabe.”

                “Thanks.” Gabriel sipped the drink before turning to observe a commotion in the other room. One of the officers burst in moments later.

                “It’s Dean, Sheriff. He’s found Castiel, they’re driving him in now.”

                “Where?” Sheriff Jody Mills exploded out of the chair, riding the wave out of the room. She exchanged details with the Winchesters on the phone, while simultaneously arranging an escort of police and alerting the hospital. Castiel was found. He was alive. It was like a weight of dread and guilt had eased from Gabriel’s shoulders.

                “Which hospital are they taking him to? We can meet him there.”

                “I’ll take this from here, Jody. Go do your job.” A woman Gabe only vaguely remembered from his childhood stepped in.

                “Thanks Ellen.” Jody called, already out the door as the sirens sounded and cruisers flew out of the lot.

                “You know the hospital, I take it?” Gabriel asked, feeling some tension returning.

                “About that. Would you mind if we spoke in private?”

                “Of course.” Gabriel followed her away from prying ears, curious and nervous all at once.

                “Look, I can tell that you are a good person and you love your brother and feel terrible about all of this. But, Castiel has been through a lot. You were there for a good part of it, and he idolized you. From what I’ve heard from Dean, Castiel looked up to you like no other. And it was really hard for him when you left. It’s still hard from him. Now, I can’t make you do anything and I know that. But what I recommend is you give Castiel some time, let him come to you when he’s ready. I could be wrong, he could be ecstatic to see you again. But it could also bring up some…horrible memories. With everything he’s been through, perhaps it’s better to give him a chance to heal before we go picking at older scabs. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

                “Yes.” Gabriel huffed. “You’re saying he might blame me for leaving him with that bastard.”

                “No-“ Ellen started.

                “No, no. It’s true. At least, that’s how I feel. Because I did leave him. I left both of them. I was selfish and tired of his torment, so I left and didn’t look back. I would blame me if I were him.”

                “You’re not him.” Ellen smiled. “No offense, but Castiel is that special kind of innocent. He’s the kindest, most caring and forgiving and loving individual I have even been given the treasure of meeting. I’m not trying to stand in the way of your reunion. I just want to make sure Castiel is okay first. He’s my priority at the moment.”

                “No problem.” Gabriel smiled. “Let Castiel know that Anna, Balthazar, and myself are in town and ready to see him whenever he wants. Here’s my number.” Gabriel scratched it out on a napkin from the nearby coffee stand. “Just give me a call.”

                “I will.” Ellen smiled. “Thank you, Gabriel. Castiel needs people in his life who love him. He’s missed his brother dearly. For his sake, I hope you are able to become a regular part of his life again.”

                “As do I. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad he has you. Cas…he wasn’t the same after mom died. It’s good to see that someone stepped up to fill her shoes for her again.” Gabriel smiled and bade her farewell. Balthazar, of course, agreed to wait. After all, so long as Cas was alive, there would always be time for tearful apologies and mended bridges. He could only hope that Castiel wasn’t so far gone that those ties would be severed forever.

                “Let’s go.” Balthazar led him out of the police station. Back to the motel they went to wait for word. Back to the motel they went while Castiel sped towards the hospital, teetering on the edge of life. Back to the motel they went, where there was nothing to be done but wait and, for the first time in a long time, hope.


	34. Chapter 34

Castiel was falling, drowning in smothering blackness. There was nothing, no light nor air, smell or taste or feeling, just the plummeting onward towards…well more the same it would seem. He was suspended in eternal limbo, in this nowhere that had claimed him. So this was death, Castiel thought sadly. He was glad that he wasn’t in hell, unless this was hell after all. No pain to be found, but the lack of anything other than himself didn’t sit right either. It definitely wasn’t heaven, sending a spike of sadness through his heart. _Goodbye, mother._ Castiel thought morosely. _I truly hoped to see you again. Despite everything, I still hoped. I’m sorry I failed you._

                The darkness was suffocating, sending his ears screaming in the silence. It didn’t take long for Castiel to long for the feel of air, of anything on his skin. To plead for taste or smell or sight. It didn’t take long for Castiel to feel the first slip in his mind. Just the thought of an eternity of this…

                But then there was something, a small speck of hope in the form of a twinkle of light. It was so far above him, so far out of his reach that despair reared its ugly head once more. It was then that Castiel took notice of a part of him he hadn’t even realized he had. There were wings, giant in span and cocooning his fall. They were the useless, broken and diseased things that had been inked into his very being. But in the reflection of the light, they began to morph before his eyes. The burn of infection made its presence known, an itching sting that prickled even as it faded from existence. Sharp cracks permeated the air, echoing with his screams as bones snapped into place, joints mending with flares of white-hot agony. A smooth expanse of skin spread across the disease-free flesh. And then another tingling of irritating pain as feathers bloomed, luxurious and glorious as heaven itself. Shadows and light, shape and sound and time and thought all woven into an existence not quite on any plane Castiel had ever thought he would know. Reverence reflected and refracted in Castiel’s eyes as he realized that this thing of beauty he stood in awe of, this thing of purity and love, was in fact himself.

                And then there was the pull, the tug deep inside to break free of everything he had believed for so long, everything that had been beaten and carved and fucked into him. To break free and _fly._ With one beat of his wings, Castiel ceased his descent. He was no longer falling. No, Castiel was now flying. Beat after beat after beat, Castiel rose higher and higher. The light grew and Castiel laughed, truly weightlessly laughed for the first time since his mother’s death. Higher and higher he rose, until the light engulfed him and Castiel shown with joy.

                “Dean.” Castiel breathed, soaring and racing towards the silhouette in the distance. Speeding towards love and home. “Dean.” Castiel called again, allowing the green of his lover’s eyes swallow him up and fill him with warmth. He had done it, Castiel was sure. He had reached heaven.

*                             *                             *

                “Dean.” Castiel called, shuddering as he blinked into consciousness. The dream was still vivid behind his eyes, tingling throughout as the warmth faded and reality settled in.

                “Hey.” Dean smiled, instantly by his side, hand intertwined firmly in Castiel’s. “I’m here, Cas. I’m here.”

                “Where.” Cas frowned, feeling the tug of bandages and itch of needles, the buzzing of medicine in his system and foggy ache of distant pain. “Where are we.”

                “We’re in the hospital, Cas. It was pretty touch and go for awhile. You gave us all a scare, Cas. I-I thought it might have been too late. I thought you were gone.”

                “You found me.” Cas smiled again, meeting Dean’s anxious gaze. “You found me.” He couldn’t help but repeat, feeling his love soar even higher.

                “I was almost too late.” Dean choked, tears flowing. “You…” Dean took a steadying breath. “Sam and I found you tied too that bed. There was so much blood, and your skin was so hot. We took you here, Sam driving while I held you in the backseat. I was so happy I found you, so glad you were still alive, even if you were unconscious. Then you started shaking, you were having a pretty bad seizure it seemed like. And we were so close to getting you help but it got worse and worse. And then you were still, you were so still Cas. You breathed out, right by me ear. I felt it, heard it, still hear it honestly. But then, you didn’t breath back in. You were just…lying there. I couldn’t find a pulse, I felt you skin start to cool. In my arms, Cas. You were in my arms, and I couldn’t save you. You died, Cas. And-And I was so worried that it was really over. I couldn’t let myself believe that you were really gone. I failed you.”

                Cas brushed the tears away, marveling at how much concentration and energy it took to produce even that small of a movement even as he marveled at the beautiful man shedding tears for him. “But I’m here now, right? I have you to thank for that, Dean. You didn’t fail me. You saved me.”

                Dean huffed a small laugh. “No, the doctor’s did the saving. Brought you back, bandaged you up. It was really bad. Infection, pneumonia, starvation and dehydration, along with all the blood loss from all your cuts and broken bones, dislocated joints…” Dean rambled off, taking a breath to steady himself for what was coming next. “There’s something else you need to know, Cas.”

                “What is it?” Cas frowned at the devastation, the complete concentration and sorrow clear on Dean’s face. “You can tell me.”

                More tears fell as Dean opened his mouth to speak once more. “They…they had to amputate your left leg, Cas. The shin was completely shattered. There…there were little bits of bone sticking through the skin when I found you. It was bad, the infection deeper there than anywhere else. They said that it was irreparable, and if they didn’t cut it off, the infection would just keep spreading again and again. I’m so sorry, Cas.”

                Castiel blinked, and the happy euphoria of the drugs and being with Dean again, being safe, all faded into numb shock. “What.”

                “I’m so sorry-“

                “Let me see.” Castiel steeled his eyes, even as he felt his emotions wavering.

                “Cas-“

                “Let. Me. See.” Cas grit out, steadying himself. With one last sorrowful glance, Dean moved to pull the covers back. Castiel gasped. It was like he was looking at someone else. That couldn’t be his own body, so pale and thin beneath the gown and bandages. Those couldn’t be his legs, one held in a splint and the other…the other gone from the knee down. Castiel felt tears prickle. Just when he thought he was done, when Zachariah could take no more from him, he was able to keep on stealing more and more.

                “Cover it up.” Cas breathed. “I don’t want to see it anymore.”

                “I-I’m sorry.” Dean complied, unsure of what else to say. Silence descended before Cas continued. “What else. What else do I need to know about me. About my-my condition.” Cas got out, just wanting all the bad news to be done and over with.

                “Like I said, it was touch and go. You’ve been here for three days now, they wouldn’t let us see you for most of it, you were back and forth in all sorts of surgeries and operations for the first two days. They had to relocate both your shoulders, all of your ribs were either broken or bruised, your left leg…well you know. And your right had to be splintered as well. Something with your knee, I don’t know. They’re talking about putting it in a cast soon. There was a lot of internal bleeding, and a lot of fluid in your lungs as well. They had to give you three blood transfusions. Both fluids and nutrients needed to be replaced. They only took the tube out of your throat an hour ago when you showed signs that you might wake up soon. There was a lot of damage to your internal organs as well. They say that you might need a kidney transplant also, since one of them…well it was too damaged so they had to take that too. They want to keep you here for two or three weeks, and then weekly visits for a few more months along with physical therapy for awhile as well. I’m sorry, Cas. This is all shit, and it’s going to stay shitty for awhile. But I let you down once before. I should have seen what was happening, should have stopped it. But I’m here now. I’m going to do everything in my power to help you, Cas. And you’re going to get better. You’ll get better if it’s the last thing I do.”

                Cas just lay there, taking all the information in as silent tears continued to fall down his lover’s face. He couldn’t help but wish that he was asleep again, that he had stayed asleep and never woken up. But then he saw the expression on Dean’s face, felt the love and heartbreak and realized for the first time that, perhaps, Dean had come to need him just as much as he needed Dean. And as Cas already knew, he would do anything for Dean.

                “Together.” Cas smiled, fondly but sadly. “We’ll get through this together.”

                “Yeah.” Dean huffed out a small laugh. “Together. I swear.” And then Dean was kissing him, sweetly and lovingly on his cheek. After all, his lips were still scabbed over from dryness and already welling blood in the cracks caused when he talked. It would be a long road, but Cas knew he would recover with Dean by his side.

                “I still can’t believe you found me. How did you know to even look? The letter-“

                Dean’s eyes turned stormy. It was like the sunlight itself seeped back out of the room. “It was thanks to Bela. She gave me a…gift. I opened it the morning after you left with all the others. In it were…pictures that she had taken of you. She had your house wired up with cameras. It was a good months worth…maybe even more, all of pictures she had printed out. Of what Zachariah was doing to you when he-“ Dean broke off, unable to finish. Castiel had figured Dean knew, given the state he found Castiel in. Still, it had to be said. And for the first time, Cas could say it out loud, what had always been screaming in the dark corners of his mind.

                “When he raped me.” Castiel finished for him.

                “Yeah. That.” Dean eyes bleed his sadness again, his heartbreak and compassion for his friend and what he went through. “Anyways.” Dean continued. “The police arrested Zachariah before he could leave the country. He wouldn’t tell us where you were though, he was trying to make a deal. Apparently though, he was planning on selling you to Alastair, since he couldn’t have you anymore. But Alastair didn’t know where you were either, everyone was looking but we couldn’t find you. So Sam convinced me to go out after what felt like years of nothing. I took him to the tree house, chasing memories of you, of happier times. That’s where we found your journal, and Sam found the address. And here we are.”

                “Bela…knew?” Cas couldn’t help but feel a sick twist in his gut. All those sideways glances, the knowing smirks, they all made sense now. She had known. She had known and done nothing.

                “She did. They found a lot of shit on her too once Crowley turned all the information over. He did some digging, called in favors. Probably some connection with the Mafia, who knows. Anyways, turns out she covered up the murder of her parents, kept their bodies in her house. A lot of theft and drugs and god knows what else. Anyways, she’s in a mental institution now. In a few months, after she’s eighteen, they’re going to try her. Given everything, they’re trying to get her locked up in some institution for the criminally insane. Also, with all the evidence they found they have been able to arrest 30 of the people so far identified in the pictures and videos Zachariah took of them doing…that to you as well. There’s still more people they are looking for. They’ll all be tried along with Zachariah.”

                “I’m sorry you had to find out.” Cas looked down, already feeling his worst fear being realized. “You must think I’m disgusting. Everyone must think I’m disgusting.”

                “I think you’re beautiful.” Dean gripped his chin gently, raising Cas to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry you had those things done to you, Castiel. But you’re not disgusting. No matter what was done to you, you are still the purest person I have ever met. You are full of love and kindness and devotion. You help others even when you yourself are in need. You give all of yourself and more to everyone who could ever ask it of you. And you do it freely, without hesitation. You have given everything and more to me, Castiel. And I can only ever hope to repay even the smallest fraction of what you have done for me. I love you, Cas. And one day, I hope you can see yourself as I see you. Because you are not disgusting, you are not damned. You are an angel, Cas. And you breathed life back into me when you agreed to be my angel. As I said so long ago, you raised me from perdition. Now let me do the same for you.”

                “Dean.” Cas smiled, eyes full of those sparks that Dean had watched fade that fateful Christmas Eve, returned a hundredfold. “You already have.”

                They continue talking for awhile, Dean explaining how everyone is worried and anxious to see him, but agreed to give them this afternoon alone. Dean talked of all their friends, how worried they are as well and how much everyone misses him and can’t wait to see him. He mentions Gabriel, how he and Balthazar and Anna are here. How Gabriel feels like shit for leaving him, for not seeing the signs just as all the others were blind. How much they want to make amends, and are willing to see him whenever he is ready. How Gabriel swears to never leave him on his own again. Castiel is shocked, but happy and full of warmth. The family he had been drawn into and the one he thought was gone all together and waiting for him. It is without hesitation that Cas tells Dean he is ready to meet with them whenever they can come.

                “So, for the trial. I’ll have to testify?” The small moment of peace, of ignoring the ugliness of their situation was over. Cas was ready to face his demons.

                “They have more than enough evidence, but most likely yes. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

                “No.” Cas sets his jaw, feeling hatred bubble to the surface. “He’ll try his best to weasel out of it. I need to speak. To face him and bury that bastard in my past.”

                “I still can’t believe….I’m so sorry, Cas. I know what it’s like to have a father that well…isn’t exactly what a father is supposed to me.”

                “He’s not my father.” Cas spat. “ Right before he left, he told me. My mother had an affair. Zachariah was not and never will be my father. My real one died in an accident many years ago. I-I kind of wish he was still alive. That maybe I could meet him. But at the same time, I’m glad I didn’t. Because if he was anything like Zachariah…I don’t think I would be able to handle that.”

                “Hey.” Dean brushed his hair back. “Ellen and Bobby are working everything out. They’ve gotten approval to be your foster parents, if you want. And I swear, Bobby is nothing like Zachariah.”

                “I know.” Cas smiled. “Bobby is a good man.”

                “That he is.” Dean agreed, pressing small kisses into the bandaged hand in his own.

                “Dean.” Castiel could no longer ignore his curiosity. He had to know what deal was so worth it to Zachariah that he would be willing to let Cas die before helping him be found. “What was the deal Zachariah was trying to work?”

                “I don’t know, really.” Dean squinted slightly, trying to remember everything. “Something about the human trafficking that he was a part of. Their names and locations in return for witness protection, which would keep him from being punished for everything he did to you.”

                “They don’t need him for that.” Castiel frowned, remembering all the helpless people so much like him, locked away in cages from all the happiness in the world. “I can’t help much with names. But I can take them to the warehouse he kept the people they took at.”

                “You.” Dean jolted up in surprise. “You knew about that?”

                “Unfortunately.” Cas shifted, fatigue buzzing on the horizon. “He took me there when it was evident I would leave him, would stay with you. He did it to warn me against telling anyone about what he was doing. Said if he went down, he would make sure I ended up in the same situation as all those poor souls, lost and alone in a foreign country to have their lives and happiness sold at a price. I don’t have an address, but if I see the warehouses I can pick out the one they were in.”

                “That’s great. I’ll let Jody know.” Dean smiled, despite the grim subject. “See what I mean, Cas. Even with everything, you’re still taking the time to try and help people. Strangers. Most people wouldn’t do that.”

                “It’s the right thing to do.” Castiel fidgeted, embarrassed.

                “Yeah.” Dean agreed. “It may be right. But more than anything, it shows how good you really are.”

                “I have a lot of bad to make up for, Dean.”

                “No.” Dean’s smile faltered. “You’ve had a lot of bad done to you. But even all that can’t stop the good you do for the world, Cas. The good you do for me.” Dean kissed him one last time before making the call. He would be damned if Zachariah wasn’t going to pay for what he did to Cas. Castiel was asleep again by the time Dean ended the call, but Jody would be ready for him when he woke up again. And Dean and all the others who loved and cared about Cas would be ready too. No, it really wasn’t going to be easy, and there would be many dark days ahead of them. But Cas would be able to face them all. He would face them with a family at his back, Dean by his side, and a heart that would only ever be full of love.

 

 


	35. Chapter 35

Dean woke as he had almost every day for the past month, to a face full of dark, unruly hair, arms loosely clinging to his own, and a heart full of warmth. Dean woke up next to Cas. They had come a long way this past month. Little by little, baby steps had made their trek across the long and winding road to recovery. There were still miles to go, if that road ever ended, but the beginning was already long in their rearview mirror. Dean smiled, breathing in the scent of Cas, mingled faintly with his own. It had been a long month, but everything had brought them all here, to this very day. To the start of the trial.

                Cas lingered in sleep, deep and dreamless as can only be brought of utter exhaustion. The nightmares had made their appearance almost every night, coupled with the anxiety and stress of therapy and the publicity his case brought only weighed Cas down more and more as the days drew on. Dean remembered that first time Cas woke, how sorrowful yet hopeful they had been. He remembered the second time, late in the evening of that same day. It was just Dean, Ellen, and Sheriff Jody Mills. She had brought pictures of the entire warehouse district, along with maps. Once Cas oriented himself to a familiar landsite, he was able to trace close enough to pick from only a handful of buildings. They were able to receive a warrant on his identification, and caught three of the traffickers who lingered, along with saving 76 victims who were being kept there. And that was only the tip. With each new arrest came new information, leading them further and further into the intricate web of crime and suffering. And, selfish as it was, the best part for Dean was knowing that Zachariah, the bastard, had no pleas or bargains to fall back on.

                It was a week of visits after that. Cas putting on his brave face and looking all those he loved in the eyes, knowing they knew the truth of his abuse. It was tearful and heartfelt, the connections made then as one by one, they all made their love and acceptance for Cas known and felt. The most beautiful one had to be Gabriel. Anna had been too young to remember most of the torment that had gone on in that household, much less understand it. And Balthazar, or Sebastian as he preferred, had moved before the real abuse began regularly. But Gabriel had been there for the bulk of it, unwittingly shunning his brother while Cas was broken further and further. When he left, Gabriel was only doing what was best for him. But coming back, that was him swearing to do what was best for Castiel. After all, what were big brother’s for? And Cas, well, Cas forgave him and welcomed them all back with open arms, as only he could do.

                But there had been bad days as well. His first session of physical therapy, two weeks after he woke up and only a few days after his release from the hospital had been horrible. They hadn’t even tried anything with walking, just simple exercises to build muscle that had been lost and help Castiel become more familiar with his body now. Still, he had cried for hours and hours afterwards, heart wrenching, gut-clenching sobs that seemed to never end. That night, Cas confided in Dean as they lay together.

                “I always loved running. I may not have been the best at sports or anything, but when I ran, I was free. It was like I was flying, Dean. And he took that away from me too. Even after I said no. Even after I told him to stop, to go. He still took it from me.”

                “You’ll run again someday, Cas. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Dean stroked his hair, gripping the fragile boy close.

                Cas only huffed. “How. I can’t even stand, Dean.” And try as he might, Dean had no idea what to say.

                At first, Cas had put up a strong front at the loss of his leg, brushing over the subject. But it weighed heavily on him, still weighed heavily on him. Handicapped. A word people see everywhere, see in every parking lot. But that word had become a reality, a reality Cas was struggling to accept. There were nights when Cas woke the entire house shrieking, clawing furiously at the mattress as tears streamed down his face. These screams were different from the nightmares. These screams were reality.

                “It itches.” Cas screamed. “It-It burns. I can’t make it stop. Make it stop, Dean. Dean! Please! Why won’t it stop?” The phantom itch, worsened by the abuse Zachariah heaped on Castiel for years. Critical years during his development. Years that would haunt and affect him for the rest of his life.

                But come morning, Castiel would always apologize, like it was his fault. And come morning, the others would look on sadly and remind him that it’s not his fault, that it’s okay, that there’s no need for apology. With downward cast eyes Cas would accept it, hearing the love and support, but not truly believing it.

                Bobby was especially difficult. He walked on eggshells around Cas now. Even so, occasionally there would be one move or phrase that would earn a decided, albeit brief, flinch out of Cas. A flinch that would halt any and all conversation, destroy any bright atmosphere in a heartbeat as the Singer’s were instantly reminded of all the torment and torture Castiel went through. A flinch that would brighten Bobby’s cheeks and moisten Ellen’s eyes as her husband would instantly apologize for actions that were harmless. Merely reminders of a dark past that still loomed over them all.

                The therapy was helping, both physical and mental. But each session still sent Cas to a dark place, stealing his smile and the joy from his eyes time and time again. They always came back, brighter and brighter than before. But Dean still feared each session. Dreamed hauntingly real nightmares of dead eyes and still hearts. Of last breaths and cooling flesh. Those eyes brought him back to before, to the last time he saw Cas before he disappeared, before Dean found him bound to that horrid bed, drenched in his own blood and filth and sick. Drenched in sickness and death and almost-too-late’s.

                School was out of the question, but at the mention of falling behind, Dean vowed to do everything in his power to help Cas. After all, Cas had lost enough. Just the thought of one more thing that would be taken from him because of Zachariah, well, Cas’ eyes said it all. Utter pain and desolation and loss, coupled with determination to persevere and break free of his chains. It was devastating and uplifting all at once. So the teachers sent work home, and everyone helped Cas to the best of their abilities. Granted, Sam, Ellen, and Kevin were the most helpful at this. Still, everyone tried and everyone gave their best.

                Best wasn’t always enough, however. Ten times in the last month Cas had hurt himself. Dean would catch him with a smuggled knife, carving away at his own flesh in an attempt to release all the pain he constantly held inside. Each time Dean would pull the blade free of weak hands, cradle his tear-ridden face, and say anything and everything to bring his love back. And each time, Cas would confess that he feared it wasn’t enough. That it might never be enough. He made his peace, back there in the lonely, torturous cabin. He wanted to die. He thinks he might still want to die. And each time Dean would hold and sooth Cas to sleep, staying strong for his angel up until the moment his eyes closed. Only then would Dean let the tears flow. And Sam or Bobby or Ellen or whoever happened to pass by would only be able to look on in sympathy, unable to do anything to help. Because Cas was safe now, but the damage had been done, and the danger now lay in his own mind.

                There was good too, many, many happy moments shared. Dean relished these, hoarded them in his memories like treasured gold. Especially the moments they were alone. Cas still wasn’t able to bath himself, a task made only more difficult by his cast-bound right leg and torso that still hadn’t recovered full range of moment. Only then would Cas let anyone see him strip bare, and even then only for Dean. So Dean would sponge him down, carefully and gently. Everywhere except his more…intimate areas. Those Dean still couldn’t touch without bringing back painful flashbacks for Cas. So Dean would hold his hand, maneuvering him so Cas could clean himself in places that Dean longed to one day touch, worship and lather with his love. Places that, more and more, Dean was realizing might forever be just a hand beyond his reach.

                Castiel loved to kiss, though. He made this known clearly and daily, reveling in the dance of lips and tongue and teeth. Mingled air and an intimacy that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with love. Kissing never sent Cas back to his horrible memories, never made him cry or scream. But Dean did cry. He cried every time he realized this was because Cas still didn’t really know love, it was all so brand new to him. He knew pain and rape, torture and manipulation and use, but he didn’t know love. And so Dean would cry and Cas would cling tighter until their bodies were flush and breaths coming in pants. Only then would he draw away with one last chaste peck, feigning tiredness. But Dean saw past it. Knew that it wasn’t the exhaustion (though that was a factor, the damage to his health was still quite evident). No, Cas would draw away because he felt how close they were. Felt Dean on every inch of his body. Felt him everywhere except for the left knee down. And that was a hurdle still standing high in Cas’ path.

                Kids from school visited often, most turned away instantly. As word spread, many of the school body wanted to see the kid who had been beaten and raped for almost half his life. Wanted to see their fellow student who, after school, would go home to get fucked by his father or some random John with cash in his wallet for Zachariah and a dick in Castiel. Those kids would get the ass-chewing of their life before being sent on their way.

                Others came to apologize, past bullies or onlookers who wanted to make amends with the damaged boy. Most of those were turned away as well, the choice in those cases were always left up to Cas. His friends came as well, Adam and the entire baseball team even held fundraisers in his honor. They were putting the money to a fund that they hoped could maybe get Castiel a prosthetic leg some day. Surprisingly, Adam and Cas bonded well, given what Adam’s father had been doing to Castiel for years. Adam apologized for his father, trying to repay the boy who had so much taken from him. But Castiel had already forgiven Michael, and never blamed Adam for his father’s misdoings. Thanks to that, it only took one wrong word about Castiel at school nowadays to have the entire baseball team on your ass.

                Dean appreciated it, but still felt apprehension. After all, what would happen next year when Castiel was well enough to attend school once more? How would he be able to function normally when everyone would know, when everywhere he went there would be backward glances and shared whispers. Even with so many standing for him, there would always be those looking to make him fall. Then again, what if they switched schools? Moved and started all over. What then? Castiel already lacked so many critical social skills. He even had trouble communicating with the friends and family he already had. Would he be able to make new friends there? And homeschooling, well that was definitely out of the question after the upbringing of isolation and manipulation he had. No, whatever way Dean looked at it, it was definitely going to be a struggle.

                But he was still improving, regaining health and doing his best to move forward mentally and emotionally. The doctor’s deemed that he would not need a kidney transplant, one would be enough for the time being. They gave it another month, two tops before his right leg could come out of the cast. After that, prosthetics were a real possibility, and with some rehabilitation, maybe even walking and eventually running. His shoulders and ribs were healed, if a little tender. The damage done to his organs and general health had already been overcome, but there was still plenty of muscle growth left to work on. All in all, things were looking up.

                Castiel shifted in his sleep, bringing Dean back to the present. Unable to help the small smile that formed upon looking at the worry-free face of his sleeping angel, Dean watched on as his sorrow and worry faded, replaced with joy and the brightest glow of love. Slowly blinking away sleep, Cas woke to the adoring gaze of the one who mattered most in the world to him. With a smile, Cas rolled closer for a kiss, only to jerk to an abrupt stop with a breathless gasp as his morning wood grazed Dean’s hip. Dean froze as well, unsure what to do. This was the first time Cas had woken with morning wood. Then again, this was probably the first time they slept through the night without either having a nightmare. Unsure what to do, Dean waited on Cas to make whatever move may come. Be it impromptu intimacy or the slight sting of rejection, Dean would take whatever Cas gave him.

                The war played clearly across Castiel’s face, battling desire and despair, each fighting equally for dominance. With a sigh, Cas scrunched his eyes close and pressed his hand hard to his crotch, willing his erection limp. It didn’t take long, and Dean didn’t have to ask why.

                “I don’t want the first time we do this to be like this. To be today. I want it to be special, something we can both treasure forever, Dean. I don’t want it tainted by Zachariah or the others. I want to be with you, Dean. But first, I want anyone who ever raped me, who used or hurt me to be rotting away somewhere far from us. I want to be at peace, knowing that I am free of their abuse. I want to be focused completely on you, Dean. And I can’t give that to you right now. I’m sorry.”

                “Don’t be.” Dean kissed his cheek, lingering to brush his nose playfully through Cas’ hair. “I understand. I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready. I don’t want you doing this until you’re completely ready too. 100% or not at all. Got it?”

                “Got it.” Cas huffed, turning his head for a proper kiss. Dean obliged, cradling Cas’ head in his hands, basking in the progress that had been made, the progress to come. Today and the days to come would be hard for everyone. But after the trial, Dean knew that the real recovery would start. And Dean had complete faith that Cas would be able to do it. The would all do it, each helping the other heal in their own way.

                “C’mon.” Dean pulled away, standing to walk the wheelchair over to the bed. “Time to get ready.”

                Dean helped Cas into the chair before wheeling them off to the bathroom. Bobby and Ellen had given them their room for the moment, seeing as there was no way Cas would be able to brave the stairs to make it to Dean’s room on a daily basis. There was some shuffling involved, Jo rooming with Charlie, Sam sleeping in Jo’s old room while Ellen and Bobby took theirs. But no one complained (much), and Castiel’s gratitude shown bright on a daily basis. He took extra care to ensure that his appreciation was well-known, just as the other’s strove to make sure it wasn’t seeming like he was a burden on any of them.

                The bath was different from usual. Dean gently lowered Cas into the tub, only to slip in behind wearing only his boxers.

                “Dean?” Cas questioned, surprised.

                “Relax.” Dean cooed, rubbing the tense shoulders before him. “It’s a big day. I want to make sure you are at your best. Completely at ease and all that.”

                “Oh.” Cas visibly relaxed, practically melting into him. “That’s not necessary.”

                “I know.” Dean smiled. “I want to.”

                There was a pause as Dean worked his fingers into every knot he came across before Cas’ quiet voice spoke up again. “Thank you.”

                “I love you.” Dean replied, forgoing the usual ‘you’re welcome’.

                “I know.” Cas smiled, eyes closing in bliss as his head fell back to rest on Dean’s bare chest. “You show me how much you love me all the time, Dean. Every day, it’s like everything you do just shines through with your love. I only wish one day I can show you how much I love you as well. It feels me up, Dean. It’s the light that brings me back from the dark. It’s everywhere, Dean. Imprinted on my very soul. I-I just wish I could show you. Be with you, in every way.”

                “I know too, Cas. You don’t have to show me anything. I might be a girl for saying this, but it’s already in your eyes. It’s been there for awhile. There’s nothing else you need to do. Trust me, I’ll know how much you love me. I’ll always know, Cas.” And if Dean kissed the top of Cas’ head, breathing in his scent like a drug while he drew the massage out longer than planned, well no one else would know.

                Bath over and done with, Dean helped Cas back into his chair to finish drying off before showering himself. They brushed their teeth, shaved (more for show than any real need yet), and took their turns relieving themselves, each turning their back respectfully. Dean dressed the both of them; undershirt, white collared shirt, plain black jacket, briefs instead of his usual boxers, slacks and socks all went on.

                “Here.” Cas smiled, taking the matching blue ties from Dean’s hand. “It’s my turn. Let me.”

                So Dean smirked and slid easily onto the bed where he had moved the boy, straddling his lap and sending a furious blush to Cas’ perfect cheeks. His hands were sure, gentle and smooth as Cas expertly did up his tie. When he moved to grab his own, Dean shot his hand out and reached it first.

                “Here, let me.” Dean smiled, not moving an inch from his spot as he did up and straightened out Cas’ tie. All too soon, the preparations for the day were complete and the two headed out to the kitchen for breakfast. The others were already there, dressed formally but not overly so. Breakfast was quiet, as to be expected with the array of nerves everyone was feeling. Cas wasn’t able to eat much, just the thought of what was to come turning his stomach. It would be the first time he saw Zachariah again since he walked out of the cabin, leaving his son to die. It was going to be difficult, but with a deep breath and hand tightly locked with Dean’s, Cas knew he would be able to face it.

                Everyone piled into their respective cars, mumbling quick ‘see you there’s all around and ‘good luck’s coupled with ‘we’re here for you’s for Cas. And just like that, they were off, speeding towards the courtroom. The trial was waiting for them all there, not just Cas. Everyone would see the darkness he endured to its face, and all Cas’ secrets and pain and abuse would be laid bare. The trial would be a hurdle they would face together. But, most importantly, the trial would help bring a sliver of closure for Cas. Closure the others would help him build upon. With only a little over an hour before the trial started, everyone was mentally preparing themselves best they could. They had been waiting for this day ever since Castiel was brought back to them. It was time.

 

 


	36. Chapter 36

Thankfully with the wide array of video and picture evidence, along with the physical evidence of Castiel’s state of health and collection of scars, the prosecution has more than enough ammo to send Zachariah away for good. Castiel’s testimony was only the icing on the cake. Knowing he had nothing to fall back onto now, Zachariah was pleading guilty. The trial was now just for the sentence to be administered. Even the other defendants, the John’s who paid for their turn, were left with nothing as well. They couldn’t plead ignorance, couldn’t fight the picture and video evidence. All they could hope for was leniency on the judge’s part.

                The trial begins, Zachariah is brought out in chains, and Castiel clings to Dean’s hand for dear life.

                “That smug bastard.” Dean growled. “He better get life for what he did to you.”

                Upon Cas’ tensing hand and silent response, Dean turned to face him, concern oozing freely. “Cas? You okay?”

                “I-I don’t know.” Cas whispered, crying. “I know I hate him, Dean. I can feel it burning inside me, so hot and angry and still fresh and raw. But I can feel _him_ too, his hands, h-his cock, his tongue and poisonous words, it’s all still there. Dean, I don’t know how to describe it. He did so much to me, so much wrong. But I still see what he was, still remember the man who pushed me on the swing, who helped with homework and tucked me in. The man who kissed my mother and loved all their children. I miss him, Dean. He may not have been my real father, but he still raised me. There were good memories too. I just…forgot. Even in the bad, there were days when he was his old self again. He would take me for ice cream, buy me a book I showed interest in, praised my grades or fix my favorite meal. He sang me to sleep when I was sick and brought me soup and wet towels. Even after he started raping me, he would hold me in the beginning. He would chase the pain away with talk of how beautiful I was, how much like my mother I looked. ‘You’re a good boy, Castiel. A good son.’ He would say. ‘I wish I could wash away the stain on your soul. I want to help you, Castiel. I want to make everything right in you.’”

                “Cas. I….I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” Dean pulled him close, staring death at the man smugly sitting before them in his chains.

                “Don’t be.” Cas huffed. “He stopped all that long before you came, Dean. It was about halfway through middle school, when I first hit puberty. That’s when he stopped treating me like a child. That’s when he severed the love I perceived. For the longest time, I blamed myself, knew I must have done something wrong. But he was the one doing wrong. I can see that now. And while seeing him again brought up memories, emotions I haven’t thought of in months, it doesn’t change anything. He still hurt me, still raped me, and I will be content in the knowledge that he can never do that to me or anyone else ever again.”

                “You’re so strong, Cas.” Dean smiled, pecking his cheek and lingering to whisper. “I love you. I love that even in all the hate, in all the bad, you still try and see the good. Even though I hate that man, all those men, with every ounce of my being, you still find hope in your heart. That’s how good you are, Cas. How much better you are than them. How much better you will always be, no matter what anyone says, no matter what you think, you are _good,_ Cas. The best. Don’t forget that.”

                “I won’t.” Cas smiled tensely as the judge brought the trial to a start, observing all the formalities.

                “Don’t think any less of me.” Cas stressed, after it was obvious the evidence was about to be shown.

                “I won’t.” Dean promised. “I’m here for you, Cas. If you need to leave, just let me know.”

                “Okay.” Cas breathed, blood draining from his face as the first video was shown.

                The trial passed in a blur for Cas, cycling through all the defendants over the next few weeks. Zachariah received life in prison for child molestation, child pornography, child abuse, the list goes on and on. Bobby, Ellen, Dean, everyone cheered when the sentence was delivered. Alastair received 50 years with no chance of parole, while Lucas Novak, who had been arrested and flew in two weeks ago, was sentenced 40. The other’s all received 20-30 year sentences, some with and some without chance of parole. The trial was hard, however. It wasn’t just Zachariah who kept videos. One in particular was shot by Alastair. It was in his basement, just a cement room cleared save for a metal table at a slight angle.

                The video showed Cas strapped in, face-down and bare ass to the air for all to see. Obviously, the cut out or blurred out as much as possible. But it still showed how Alastair threaded the tube into his hole, how he pumped gallons of water over the course of just a few hours into the small boy. How Cas would get so full and bloated he would vomit, how Alastair would rip the tube out for water and liquid shit to pour out, all dribbling to collect with the tears in a pool around Castiel’s face pressed into the unforgiving steel table. The angle made sure all unpleasant fluids ran down to rest there, running into his eyes and ears and nose and mouth. Insert and rip out. Insert and rip out. They only showed clips, but the message got across. Afterwards, the water he was washed down with was so hot and pressurized that Castiel turned pink, then red, and was left with scattered burns everywhere.

                That was just one kink Alastair felt like exploring. In another, he inserted a sort of mouth guard doubled as a gag that kept Castiel’s mouth wide and teeth shielded. Hands and feet bound in the sling, Cas was helpless to the hands locked in his hair and cock pummeling deep inside his throat. When Alastair was close, he would pinch Castiel’s nose to increase the suction. Castiel would choke around the flesh, yearning for air. He always passed out for the end, but Alastair made sure never to suffocate him long enough to die. He would come too with Alastair soft and limp from his climax, but still finding all manner of…toys to play with.

Then they showed the physical pain Alastair delivered. Showed the burning, the beating and cutting. Once, he cut Castiel’s flesh just above his stomach and peeled his skin back to expose his ribs. Then, he carved his name into the bones visible. Melting down a small amount of copper, Alastair took care in filling his name in with molten, red-hot liquid. Cas had screamed as smoke wisped up from his ribs. The copper cooled, forever imprinting the name Alastair into him. Castiel may have passed out from the pain, but Alastair still stitched and cleaned him up all the same. The torture escalated more and more until around the time Zachariah began demanding more money for more damage. Only then was the pain toned down once more.

His Uncle, Lucas, had a few videos as well. The man had never been good, only he and Zachariah ever got along. He had a family back home as well, but they feared him even before the light had been shown on how he abused his nephew. Castiel hadn’t been the only one he abused. Still, the many times he raped him were made known. The occasional beatings, the collar he started bringing. There was one video in particular, showing Cas in nothing but the collar and a large butt plug as Lucas would throw ball after ball for him to fetch while he sat there and laughed. The balls varied in levels of unpleasantness. Some were covered in feces, others left in the freezer so they would send icy shards of pain shooting through Castiel’s mouth as he tried desperately not to drop the ball. They also showed the few times Zachariah tried to pleasure Castiel as well, always ending with him in tears. They showed many more things, but Cas could watch no more.

They showed the gangbangs. Showed his father dressing and painting him up like a whore. Showed the days filmed of no sex but lifetimes worth of torture. Showed Michael, thrusting into his mouth even as he bandaged Castiel’s arms. Showed a whole array of perverts playing out their sickest fantasies on one abused child. Only clips, the most modest of images had been shown. But everything was described in detail, and Castiel’s cheeks burned with shame while all the other’s burned with rage.

                Then it was Castiel’s turn. He fought back tears, fought back shame and anger as he recounted event after event, correlating with the evidence and testifying to what had not been filmed. The first time his father beat him, the first time he raped him. The first loan shark Zachariah let spend the night with his son. The starvation, the mental abuse and brain-washing, all the humiliation he had been put through. He spoke of Alastair, how he coached him to hide signs of abuse instead of helping him as therapists are supposed to. How he would hurt himself, often in front of Zachariah, scars visible for all to see and still no one stepped forward to help. To put an end to it all.

The gangbangs were brought up, brushed over as Castiel didn’t know names, couldn’t remember all the faces. There were many events that he couldn’t remember, more and more piling on as the trial dragged on. It frightened Cas, how he could have no memory of so many nights, so much abuse. It wasn’t drugs poking holes in his memory, but blackouts. It scared him, really scared him to realize how far his mind had slipped without him even knowing. But then again, upon seeing the evidence of those occurrences, Cas decided he was glad he didn’t remember.

He spoke of Michael as well, all the filth he had done and help he had given when it came time to patch Castiel up. But he didn’t stop there. Cas continued, letting everyone know how Michael had stopped, recounting every word said in his office and the forgiveness he had found for the man. He would still pay for his crimes, but Cas hoped it wouldn’t be as severely.

Doctors had been brought out as well, to describe the damage done, the damage that’s repercussions were still being inflicted, that would continue to affect him. His psychologists spoke as well, holding nothing back as they described the psychological effects that would plague Castiel for many years to come, perhaps even the rest of his life. The stint in emotional growth the abuse caused, the depression and possibilities of whole arrays of mental illness that could still set in. Illnesses that, some of which, he was already displaying signs and symptoms of. All in all, they painted a bleak past, and a possibly bleaker future for him. Still, the trial had come to its end, with no rock left unturned in Castiel’s past for all in the courtroom to see.

                Next came the human trafficking, a separate charge Zachariah had been brought up on. The evidence was shown, Castiel’s testimony recorded, and a second life sentence delivered. Three weeks after that first day, Cas walked out of the courtroom for what he hoped would be the last time.

                The went home afterwards, exhausted and drained emotionally. Castiel felt…better than expected, but still a far cry from good. He knew the darkness inside would linger, the pain and negativity that had been dredged up would not leave easily. But it was time to move on, and step by step he would get to that better place in his life. He would get there with Dean.

                Gabriel, Anna, and Balthazar all came back with them, support and love clearly shown. Gabriel owned their old house now. It took him less than half a second to decide to sell it. Too many bad memories, too many ghosts from a not-too-distant past lingered for any of them to feel comfortable there. The three of them would be returning to New York, but would stay in Lawerence for the next month. In the meantime, they would take online courses for the schoolwork they were missing and make it up over the summer. Gabriel didn’t need to work while they were here, he had more than enough money saved up by now. Still, they promised to visit often and call every day. Gabriel legally became Castiel’s guardian, but signed over foster rights to the Singer’s as well. So Cas would stay here, with Dean, at least until summer started. After that, they all agreed to re-visit the topic of Castiel’s living arrangements.

                As the long final day of the trial came to a close, Gabe, Balth, and Anna returned to the motel while Dean and Cas headed up to bed. Dean tucked in tight next to him, cradling the tired boy as they kissed goodnight. Even with the storm inside him, Castiel felt good. Felt hope. Felt love and happiness and belonging. He felt home. It was in the form of the family he had, the family he had come to join. It was in the shape of Dean’s arms, in the taste of his breath. It was the love in those green eyes and warmth of freckled, tan skin. Castiel was home, and Dean would never let him go again.

So, for the first time since Cas could remember, he went to sleep with a smile on his face and a peace in his heart. Yes, the road might be long and hard, winding and treacherous as he strove to recover from his past. But the road wouldn’t stop him, wouldn’t trip him or lead him astray. Because that road would be nothing so long as Dean stood by him to face it. And for the first time in a long time, Castiel dreamed. Not of pain or nightmares, but of soft lips and green eyes and all that was right in his world. So Castiel dreamed of happiness, and slept through the night with a smile on his lips and his love in his arms. So Dean and Cas closed this chapter of pain and loss, heartbreak and sorrow, and looked forward towards all that would come. So Dean and Cas took the first step towards moving on.

 

The End

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Just want to take a moment to thank all of you who have made it to the end of this tale. Now, I have spoken of a sequel in the past, and it is no doubt still in the works. However, there might be another delay in the continuation of this story due to a new inspiration that struck me recently. I will be working on that along with the sequel until they are both complete, so there could be a delay in the sequel due to the new story I will be working on. It will be called An Innocent's Restoration, so keep a look out! As always, comments are more than appreciated and I want to let you know that I most definitely take the time to read them all and reply as much as I can. I have a working outline for the sequel, but if there is anything anyone wants to see or see more of in the continuation feel free to share your ideas and I will see if they could be incorporated into the storyline. Again, thank you all for taking the time to read my work, it has been a wild and amazing ride thus far. Also, if anyone has any fictions of their own that they want me to read, feel free to send a link! Cheers!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I have not yet edited this work, am in the process of it whilst also working on the sequel/separate work. Let me know what you think!!! This is my first work, so I hope you all enjoy it and please bear with me as I am still learning the ins and outs of this site. Any errors you find please bring to my attention. Comments are welcome and appreciated, positive or negative, just let me know what you think! Thank you again and see my other works for the sequel, An Innocent's Restoration. Also, feel free to suggest any other works for me to read. Kamelot was a big help, listened to that band for the majority of the second half. Give them a listen if you like the more classic sounding rock (not actually classic rock, but embodies the sound well)!!!


End file.
